


Heels Over Head - Fantasy Season 3 - Written by Miss Miko

by kellankyle



Series: Heels Over Head - Written by Miss Miko [3]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 03, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-24 16:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 397,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellankyle/pseuds/kellankyle
Summary: The happy couple goes public.





	1. Voyage

**Author's Note:**

> These wonderful stories were written by Miss Miko. She has given me permission to post these as a collection on her behalf. This is a fully completed story which will be posted as a 5 part series. Enjoy!
> 
> Summary from Heels Over Head.
> 
>  **Ratings:** All stories are NC-17+ (some NC-17+infinity)  
>  **Note:** All stories are in chronological order  
>  **Warning:** These stories are not for the QAF purist and feature non-canon characters and situations. If you're only interested in reading about Brian and Justin as they are on the show, don't waste your time with these stories, just pop in your DVDs or VHS tapes and knock yourself out.

Sunlight on the ocean was how he thought of Justin’s smile. Laughter coming in waves. Surging towards and over him. And where before he would have dipped in a toe, testing the water, he now ran to meet the surf and plunged headlong into its bubbly depths, joy closing over his head as he fell into Justin’s arms.

Who could have known drowning would feel so good? Where there had been fear, there was now anticipation; anger had become acceptance; loneliness, courage. He felt a strength he had never known before and knew, if need be, he could take on the entire world by himself. But he didn’t have to anymore. He was no longer alone.

Like holding a seashell to your ear to hear the ocean, Brian could hear Justin’s laugh, see his smile, feel his love whenever he looked at his ring. Even without it he would still be able to because they were connected. A room between them and he could feel Justin’s warmth as if the teen were pressed against his side. A world apart and he would only have to reach inside himself to touch Justin’s presence. And he started to laugh at the idea of having an ocean inside him. Except that Justin was the ocean and anything was possible.

How long ago had he set out on this journey? A sailor putting out to sea, seduced by an instance beneath a lamplight, thinking the sojourn would be brief, the ride pleasant yet forgettable, only to have the sea shift, become unknown, challenging, intoxicating. He’d returned from that trip thoroughly enthralled, although it had taken months for him to acknowledge it, to admit that he’d lost his heart at sea, to the sea, to a youth whose smile was like sunlight on water- - but whose moods were as mercurial as the ocean’s, blue eyes darkening with lust or anger, capable of rocking Brian to sleep in his arms or buffeting him about, tossed by emotions he had hardly ever owned as being his. I love you, Justin had said and it’d sent him scurrying away. _I need you. I want you. I know you._ Words to make a man wary. Words to make a man careless. Words to trap as surely as a net, to entangle, to bind.

They were bound together now, less by the words they’d spoken or the rings on their fingers than by the love in their hearts and the feeling of having come home after some long journey to find a light in the window.

Justin had slept through his rising, unusual except that the young man was exhausted and content, certain of Brian’s place beside him, no longer afraid of waking to find him gone because they would never really be apart again.

Returning to the bedroom after having witnessed the street below slowly return to life, Brian stood on the top step and watched Justin sleep. Glanced at the clock. The guys would be buzzing in an hour or so, come to help clean up. Come to gape in wonder at the ring on his hand. He grimaced, thinking of the ragging he would have to take. Then he smiled. Because Justin gave a little sigh and turned over towards Brian’s side of the bed, a prelude to waking. Sure enough, in a moment, he opened his eyes, reaching for Brian in the same movement.

”Hey,” Brian said from the doorway and Justin looked around. And smiled. Crossing the floor, Brian lay next to his lover and gathered him in his arms as they kissed hello. However, the hello became an inquiry into the state of things and the inquiry blossomed into an investigation and not long after they’d progressed to a long-term study which required that Brian remove his robe and submit to a very thorough examination.

”We can’t,” he whispered every time he caught his breath for an instant but Justin ignored him and soon they reached a point where neither of them cared and then they reached the point at which the guys could have battered down the door and it wouldn’t have mattered because all that mattered was that Justin keep rising and falling, rising and falling, and moaning until the sound broke against the walls of the loft like water against a levee.

Climbing down from atop Brian’s hips, Justin pecked him on the nose. “Hey.”

What a way to say, ‘Good morning.’ 

 

Of necessity, their shower was brief, during which Justin checked his ring constantly, despite the fact that it was a perfect fit and was in no danger of sliding off.

In record time they dressed and had just sat down to the first cup of the day- - Jamaican Blue Mountain- - when the guys knocked on the door. Brian’s heart, by some miracle of science, had relocated to his throat and he swallowed a mouthful of coffee with difficulty. Rising from the table, they came together for the last time before going public.

”Well,” said Justin.

”Yeah,” Brian replied and they laughed nervously and took deep breaths. “Here goes.” He threw open the door.

As Michael pushed through he asked, “What took you so long?”

Emmett sauntered past, taking in their swollen lips. “You have to ask?”

Barely pausing on his way to the sofa, Ted said, “Nice ring.” What he’d said caught up with him just as his butt touched the cushion. He turned, as did Michael and Emmett, all staring at Brian as if he’d grown a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

Justin raised his hand, answering the unasked question.

”Holy shit,” whispered Mikey.

In awe, Emmett took Justin’s hand and examined the ring. Pronounced it, “Beautiful.”

Ted still couldn’t believe it even though he’d been the first to notice. “Is this for real?”

”For the amount of money I paid for these things, it’s for real,” replied Brian and he looked, for the first time, at Mikey. His best friend’s face was slightly pale. And he could imagine that Michael was thinking of David and their failed relationship and how things might have turned out if he hadn’t decided to stay in Pittsburgh, if he hadn’t gotten the call at the airport telling him Justin had been hurt and Brian was in need of comfort- - even though nothing and no one had been of any real comfort to him, not until Justin had opened his eyes. And even though Michael had told him often enough that the bashing had only delayed the trip, that he had made the decision on his own to end it, even though he’d said it a dozen times or more, Brian didn’t really believe him. Still considered himself partially to blame. Now, as he watched Mikey digest their news, he felt guilty again. And then Justin smiled at him from halfway across the room and he couldn’t help it, he wanted to shout.

”So,” began Emmett, “where are you going on your honeymoon?”

Smile growing wider and brighter, Justin replied, “Europe. This summer. For a whole month,” he added.

”He must be serious,” commented Ted. “He’s never taken a month off for vacation.”

Mikey, who’d known they had planned to go abroad some time, forced a smile. “You’ll love Paris. I did.”

Hoping to divert attention away from them for a moment, Brian gestured at the balloons, the streamers, the hundred billion pieces of fuckin’ confetti (Who’d thought that had been a good idea?), and the overflowing ash trays. “What about all this help we were supposed to get?”

Emmett whipped out an apron and a bandana from his backpack, tied the apron around his waist and wrapped up his hair. Stood hands on his hips. “Well?”

Ted rolled his eyes. “Good Lord. He’s channeling Hazel.” 

 

Somehow they managed to get the place cleaned - - at least clean enough for the maid to come in and clean. By unanimous vote they decided not to analyze that too deeply and instead headed out to a well-earned lunch. Brian and Justin were famished, having fucked away whatever nourishment they’d accrued the night before.

Sitting in a booth, the guys all grabbed menus and held them up to their faces so that their hands were visible and waited for Deb to come over. She smooched Michael on the top of the head and took out her pad and pencil. “So, what’ll it be- - Oh, my God!”

She’d seen them. Brian peeped over the top edge of his menu.

”Is that what I think it is?”

”Are you under the influence of any drugs or illegal narcotics?”

She reached over to hit him. He ducked. “Smartass.” Then she remembered why and grabbed Justin’s hand. “Oh, my God. Sunshine?”

Justin felt like he was about to explode, like he had the sun inside him and it was about to burst from his belly like one of the creatures in Alien. “He gave it to me last night.”

Pulling him from his seat, she hugged him hard. Kissed him on the cheek. Then reached for Brian and he had to get up too and get a kiss, which he wiped off in mock indignation, and returned to his seat grumbling about wanting lunch and not “wet, sloppy kisses from middle-aged straight women.”

Deb laughed and waved everyone to be quiet. “Hey! Hey, everybody!” The other diners paused and looked her way. Brian tried to slide down in his seat. “It’s official! Brian fuckin Kinney is off the market!”

As the guys in the diner began mumbling among themselves, some of them narrating their tale about the night/day/moment Brian Kinney fucked them, Emmett signaled with his hand. “I’m still single.”

Ted nodded. “Ah, yeah, I’m sure the world is breathing a sigh of relief.”

Brian glanced over at Mikey sitting at the end of the table. Aware of the scrutiny, Michael looked up from his menu. Gave a little smile, then went back to looking down. Unconsciously, Brian touched his ring.

Having observed the interaction, Justin decided to leave it alone. They’d figure it out among themselves. They always had. 

 

Of course, as soon as Jennifer and Lindsay heard about “the rings” they and Deb got the bright idea that nothing would do except to throw the lucky couple a party. Brian, telling himself that it would only be two or three hours of excruciating agony, promised to show up. Actually, he only agreed because Justin assured him that if he didn’t, it’d be no nookie for him for a very, very long time and since Brian’s idea of a very, very long time was about forty-five minutes, he caved immediately.

Assured that he had Justin’s attention, Brian held up two sweaters: one dark brown, the other tan, both Hugo Boss. “What do you think?”

”You’re asking me? The Old Navy poster boy?”

Lips curled in a sneer, Brian replied, “Think of this as a growth opportunity.” Flicked his tongue. “Pick the right one and I might just let you fuck me tonight.”

Mouth having gone suddenly dry, Justin studied Brian closely for any clues as to which shirt was ‘the right one’ in his mind. And then he decided to try a different tactic. “I might not want to fuck you tonight.”

Unfortunately, he hadn’t mastered the art of the bluff, not entirely, especially when it came to topping Brian. Fortunately, that amused Brian immensely. He grinned and then laughed. Tossed the tan sweater onto the bed and slipped the brown one over his head. Kissed Justin soundly. “Well, if you change your mind. . .” He strode out of the bedroom, his long legs and tight butt beckoning Justin to follow.

 _Fuck yeah_ the teen thought. _How long is this fuckin’ party gonna last?_

It lasted way too long in both their opinions. Especially since everyone seemed hell-bent on recounting every one of their missteps on the way to True Love. Em told the NY trip story for the fiftieth time and Mel told how Justin had shown up at their house the night Hotlanta had given Brian a blow job right in front of his face.

”Not your finest moment, Bri,” Lindsay told him.

”Well. . .”

Jennifer looked properly scandalized and was doubly glad Molly was upstairs playing with Gus.

”So, how did you convince Brian not to kill you when he found you in that hotel room in New York?” Em asked and everyone gave him a look. “I’m curious.”

”He’s very persuasive,” was all Brian would say.

”The fuck defense,” Mel said and she and Brian laughed, remembering the Kip episode.

”What?” asked Lindsay, so Mel had to tell that story and they all laughed despite the amount of trouble Kip had caused during and after the entire sordid affair. None of them could forget his testimony during Chris Hobbs’ trial and just thinking about the trial dampened their moods a little but not for long as Vic proposed yet another toast.

”To the happy couple, may you still be fucking at sixty-four.”

”Justin or Brian?” asked Ted and Brian cut his eyes at him. Mouthed, ‘Fuck you,’ at him and they all laughed again.

As Deb went to get the cake, Brian looked around and noticed that Mikey had disappeared. Giving Justin a kiss on the forehead, he slipped outside, certain to find his best friend out back. He was. Sitting at the rickety picnic table Deb refused to get rid of although it was probably a health hazard. Risking splinters and worse if the table collapsed, Brian sat next to Michael and lit a joint. Took a hit and passed it over. Michael took it and inhaled cautiously. Brian liked his doobies notoriously strong. Taking it back, Brian held it between his fingers and took a puff every now and then as he spoke. “You remember that time Deb took us down to the shore for a week when we were what? Fifteen?”

”Yeah. I didn’t think your dad would let you go.”

”Glad to get rid of me.” A hit. Exhaled. “What was that kid’s name? The one you had a crush on?”

Michael sighed. “Lester.”

”Lester,” breathed Brian. “That’s right. You spent the entire fuckin’ week mooning over that loser.”

”He was not a loser.”

”Total loser. Sixteen-years-old and he wasn’t even smart enough to take a handout when it was offered to him. You practically sat in his lap every time you saw him and he never made a move on you.”

Stealing another hit off the joint, Michael said, “Not everybody’s a slut like you. We had a deeper connection.”

”He was an idiot,” Brian declared. “You should have taken him in the bushes and fucked his brains out. What little he had,” he added. “Least then you would have gotten over him and we could have had a good time.”

Michael frowned. “We had a good time. We went swimming every day and hung out on the beach and roasted hot dogs and played frisbee. . .”

Offering Michael another hit, which was refused, Brian stubbed out the joint and put the roach in his pocket. “I guess we did. Guess I forgot.”

Sighing, Michael rolled his eyes. “I know what you’re doing and you’re right, things won’t change between us because of you and Justin.”

”No,” Brian said, “things will change. That’s the way life is. But you’re always going to be my best friend.” He slipped his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without either of you. So don’t make me find out.” He pecked Michael on the cheek. “What kind of cake did Vic make?”

”Your favorite.”

Brian cursed, “Fuck.” He’d been hoping not to have any. “Chocolate chocolate chip.” Stood. “Come on.”

”You’ll work it off,” Michael promised him.

”That’s the one advantage of having an eighteen-year-old lover.” He paused. “Partner.” Gave his head a little shake. “Whatever the fuck he is.”

”Yours,” suggested Michael.

And Brian smiled softly. “Mine.” 

 

With each thrust he rose upon a swell of desire that carried him closer and closer to his destination. Feeling Justin move inside him, he moaned around the pillow beneath his head, his breath moistening the cool blue cotton material. He reached back and laid his hand upon Justin’s ass, feeling it rise and fall, gently at first and then faster as they were caught up in the currents that swept through their blood.

Justin’s lips brushed across the nape of his neck and he half-turned his head so that the teen could reach the side, kiss along his jaw line, behind his ear. He heard the teen whisper something to him but he couldn’t make out the words. The sound was like the roar of the ocean. Then Justin withdrew completely and he realized that it’d been a request for him to turn over.

They came together again, cocks straining against one another, kissing roughly, prolonging their lovemaking for as long as they could despite the need to come that was barely held in check. Brian’s mouth, cheeks, and chin were wet with Justin’s saliva as the younger man devoured his face with kisses. Each time Justin caught his lips between his own, Brian felt an answering tug at his groin. Wrapping his legs tight around the teenager’s waist, he held him in place, rode out one dizzying wave without losing it completely, then, conversely, released him and pushed him away, lay gasping on the bed, willing his balls not to spasm, not to shoot.

Responding to a pulse that came from deep within him, Justin rose onto his knees and held Brian’s legs up and open. Waited. Brian took him in hand and guided him inside once more. He sank in him with a sigh, cock head brushing over Brian’s prostate setting off another ripple that expanded to include them both.

Brian let go of his cock and gripped the sheets. He was hot, wet, soaked in sweat and saliva, asshole slick with lube and precum, soon to be filled with cum as well. He could feel the sweat trickling down his chest, through his pubes, around his balls, between his cheeks. Feel the saliva drying on his lips. Feel Justin’s cock sliding with ease through his hole aided by KY and a prodigious amount of sticky precum that continued to ooze from Justin’s slit as the teen grunted and plunged inside him with abandon.

Pausing, Justin released his legs and shifted positions, on his hands and knees now above the older man, and Brian crossed his legs around the teen’s waist, ankles and heels slipping from the sweat on both their bodies. But it was so good this way because now Justin’s belly rubbed against his cock and each time the youth’s muscles flexed, they stroked the underside of Brian’s dick and balls and the man panted, feeling the cum churning inside his scrotum.

Then Justin began to jab against him and he knew the journey was nearing its end. The cock inside him swelled once more, impossibly, filling him tight, and Justin tensed, shouted against his shoulder. Shuddered as he pumped Brian’s ass four, five times, balls tight against his buttocks. His orgasm over, Justin caught his breath, started rocking against Brian again, dick still hard inside him, stomach rubbing against Brian’s swollen cock and balls until the man cried out and gripped Justin to him, coming hot against his belly and chest. 

 

By the moonlight they talked, having showered and returned to bed, laying on top of the sheets, still too hot to crawl beneath despite the chill in the air, their only concession to wrap arms and legs about one another. Brian laughed thinking if they’d only separate, they could probably get under the covers and keep warm, but neither wanted to do that.

”Gus would have made a cute ring bearer though and Molly could have been the flower girl,” Justin was saying, tracing invisible patterns on Brian’s chest with his index finger.

”Probably,” was the only answer Brian gave.

”Still,” he continued, “I liked that it was just us.”

”Uh-huh.”

Getting up on one elbow, Justin studied Brian’s face. “Would you do it? If I asked?”

Heart rate increasing, Brian asked nonchalantly, “Do what?”

”Have a commitment ceremony.”

Glad that his eyes were closed at that moment, Brian fought the sudden panic that arose from the pit of his belly. Cleared his throat. “Why not? I gave you the ring, didn’t I? It’s not like it’s a secret.”

Calling him on his bluff, Justin said, “No, but that’s different from standing up in front of people and reciting poetry or something.” Waited.

”I guess.”

”But you would do it? If I asked you to?” Justin watched him closely for the slightest sign of weakness.

Brian opened his eyes, hazel and clear in spite of the grass he’d smoked hours ago. “Yes,” he said firmly, no trace of hesitation. “I’d do it.”

”Liar.” Justin laughed. “You’re too good.”

”Lots of practice,” Brian admitted, laughing too because he’d been caught out even though he hadn’t given anything away.

Justin leaned up and kissed him. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to. Cause if all those other guys out there thought you were a romantic on top of being hot, they wouldn’t leave you alone for a second.”

”What makes you think they do now?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

”Exactly my point. If they won’t leave His Big and Badness,” Keisha’s name for him, “alone with his bad attitude intact, no way would I ever be able to keep you if they found out about your soft and squishy side.”

Indignant, Brian argued, “I do not have a fuckin’ soft and squishy side.”

Grinning, Justin murmured, “You’ve got a soft and squishy hole.”

Brian wrinkled his nose. “You are so coarse.”

”And hard,” Justin told him, rubbing up against his thigh.

Hand snaking out to touch his little boy’s stiffening cock, Brian concurred, “And hard.”

Not up to another fucking right at that moment, Brian rolled Justin over onto his back and went down on him, taking great pleasure in the little cries the teenager uttered, thigh muscles tensed and toes curled. Swallowing, he licked his lips and crawled up Justin’s body, kissed him hard upon the mouth. “Don’t worry about those other guys.” Another kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Justin held his head and returned the kiss. “Not without me.”

”Not without you,” Brian agreed and he pulled the sheet over them and they settled down to sleep, their journey together having just begun. 

 

 _Oh yes other hearts were broken_  
Yeah, other dreams ran dry  
But our golden ones sail on, sail on  
To another land beneath another sky 

 

”Never Die Young,” by James Taylor, ©1988 Country Road Music, Inc. (BMI).


	2. Hey Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian falls ill; Daphne, Rennie, and Xavier return to Pittsburgh; and Justin turns nineteen.

_Is it wrong_ , he mused as he sketched Brian sleeping, _to be so happy?_ Although a lot of things had changed, one hadn't: Brian was still a better subject asleep than awake. Awake he fidgeted and talked or grumbled, or endured. Asleep he relaxed, opened up, revealed. . . and Justin could study him to his heart's content without fear of mockery or of exposing himself too much although Brian knew, knew how much his young partner loved him, adored him. Slowly, Justin leaned over and planted a gentle kiss upon Brian's lips, wanting him to remain asleep, half-hoping he'd awaken. But Brian merely slept on, probably believing he'd dreamt the fleeting contact.

Justin wondered if Brian dreamt about them. He certainly did: dreams that gave him a hard-on sometimes, dreams that kept him smiling even in the middle of the night. Brian had told him sometimes he smiled in his sleep and he believed him. The dreams he had, it sometimes made him blush to think about them. Which was incredible considering some of the things he and Brian had done sexually. He would never have imagined doing such things back when he was an innocent high school student. Well, truthfully, he had but to actually do them? All he had to do was ask and Brian would fulfill his every desire. Just thinking about it made him want to wake Brian up but he refrained from doing so. Brian had come home that evening exhausted from work and still had managed to satisfy Justin's needs before falling into a stupor. Fortunately, what Justin had needed was to fuck Brian, which he did, soundly. Not that all Brian had to do was to lie there, but it was less strenuous, less exhausting. And Brian loved getting fucked. It was funny how people thought of him as this total top when the truth was he loved a hard, thick cock up his ass as much as the next guy. It was just that he tended to attract guys who were bottoms. Mostly because of his aggressive nature. Another top was generally put off by it but every now and again he'd find a guy who was willing to take him on. At least, that had been the case until he and Justin had hooked up. Now his tight, pert ass belonged to Justin. Or so he hoped. Believed.

He hadn't gotten the impression that Brian had been with anyone else for a very, very long time. Of course, he could have been mistaken. It wasn't as if the man was going to come home and broadcast it if he had. He certainly hadn't spilled the beans about the hot and heavy kissing he and Xavier had done in the studio before Christmas break. And he didn't intend to. That was one secret he'd keep between them. He knew Brian was aware that Xavier had feelings for him. So far, Brian tolerated them, ignored them for the most part, but if he ever learned about that make-out session all hell would break loose. Despite his assertions to the contrary, Brian was the jealous type. His behavior after any of Justin's outside pairings had convinced the teen of that.

Justin remembered how betrayed Brian had felt when he'd found out part of the reason Justin had asked for leniency during Chris Hobbs' sentencing was due to Xavier. Justin had been terrified that he'd lost him. If he ever found about their kissing. . . Justin didn't want to think about it, afraid Brian would somehow, impossibly, find out about it.

But what was he going to do about Xavier? He could imagine his friend's reaction when he saw the ring Justin now wore and it wouldn't be pleasant. Still, he couldn't wait to show them all. Daphne was coming home from her grandparents' house to spend a few weeks in Pittsburgh before heading back to school and they had already planned some major hang-out days. Plus, his birthday was coming up and Xavier and Rennie would be back by then since IFA resumed classes before Princeton, and Brian had promised him he could throw a party at the loft.

What would Xavier say about the ring, about what it meant for his own abortive dreams? Justin could only speculate which did him no good whatsoever. Better to go to sleep and deal with it when it happened.

Putting away his sketch pad, Justin got under the covers and molded himself against his lover's ribs. Brian had told him more than once that he was like a cat, the way he curled into his side. "And how would you know?" Justin had asked, not believing for a minute that Brian had ever had a pet. He didn't seem the type; and Brian had replied, "My grandmother had a cat. Fucking thing loved me and I hated it. Wouldn't leave me alone. One time I woke up in the middle of the night and it was sleeping on my fuckin' head. You know what it's like waking up with a face full of pussy?"

Curving an arm around Brian's waist, Justin stroked his skin, practically purring as he fell asleep.

 

 

"OhmyGod!" Daphne exclaimed as she grabbed his hand. They had met at the loft and had just hugged hello when she saw the ring. "OhmyGod. Is it. . . ?"

"Yep," he replied, "real platinum."

She hit him on the arm. "No, stupid. Is it a wedding band?"

"Commitment ring."

"Same difference." She frowned. "You had a commitment ceremony and didn't invite me?"

"No," he assured her. "We just exchanged rings. Just the two of us. New Year's," and he smiled widely remembering how perfect it had been. "You should have seen him," he said and couldn't find the words to explain what he meant there was so much to tell.

"I can't believe it," she said even though she was looking right at the ring.

"No one could."

They settled on the sofa with a couple of sodas and a bowl of popcorn between them. "What'd your mom say?"

"She totally freaked. She was happy but I could tell she was a little scared too."

Daphne sipped her soda. "It's a big step. I mean, you're only eighteen."

"Nineteen next weekend."

She smiled at the unspoken dig because she had to wait until May before her birthday came. "Still having a party?"

He grinned around his straw. "Yep."

Bouncing once, her ultimate expression of joy, Daphne sobered a little. "I can't believe you're, like, married. You know? Doesn't it feel a little weird?"

"Sometimes. Only cause it's like being married and it's not. Nothing's legal, nothing's binding but I still feel like we're married. Kind of. Even without a license or vows or witnesses or anything."

Before the sadness could set in, she said, "Except for that really cool ring."

He looked at it, happy to have an excuse to do so. "Brian picked it out. I didn't know anything about it." Remembering, "He waited until the New Year's party was over and then he told me to close my eyes and hold out my hand."

"That's so romantic."

"They're engraved."

"What does it say?" Added, "If you want to tell me. You don't have to."

"It says, 'Forever faithful, Brian,' on the inside of mine and 'Forever faithful, Justin,' on the inside of his."

"Justin!" she exclaimed. Gave her head a tiny shake. "I am so jealous."

"I thought you never wanted to get married."

"I don't. But I wouldn't mind someone giving me a really cool ring and all the other stuff."

"You are such a freak," he told her fondly.

She laughed, then drew in a breath. "What about Xavier? I know he really likes you."

Justin hadn't told her about the kiss- - and didn't plan on telling her either because she couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it- - but she had been the first person to suspect that Xavier was interested in him.

"What about him?" he asked. "I mean, we're just friends. It's all we ever could be. I love Brian." 

 

Meeting up with the teenagers at the diner later, Brian gave Daphne a resounding kiss which left her speechless. No one flustered her like Brian. And he knew it and took advantage of every opportunity. "How's the hottest Ivy League babe around?"

She giggled. "Fine."

"Break any hearts yet?"

"Working on it."

"That's my girl."

Taking a chance, she asked, "Are you going to be at Justin's party?"

He knocked back a swig of cream soda. "Someone has to chaperone," he replied after swallowing. 

 

As they got ready for bed, Justin tried to sound Brian out on the issue of the upcoming celebration. "You don't mind about the party, do you?"

"Why should I?"

"A bunch of college kids? In the loft?"

"I'll put all the breakables up on the high shelf out of reach."

Satisfied on that point, Justin beamed. "I can't believe I'm going to be nineteen."

"Remember that song? _Hey nineteen,"_ sang Brian. 

Justin laughed. "I used to hear it on the oldies station."

"It's not that old. It came out in what? Eighty? Eighty-one?"

Dead serious, Justin replied, "That was before I was born."

And Brian laughed, but Justin could tell he wasn't pleased. Which was borne out by the way he crawled under the covers without saying anything else. Then, after a moment, he said, "I was nine in nineteen eighty." Another moment of silence. "You were seven-years-old when I turned nineteen. While you were busy figuring out five times five, I was taking derivatives in Calculus II."

"So?"

"So, it's just funny, that's all." Brian laughed, no more pleasant or joyful a sound than before. "Like that old song." With that he cut off the light on the night stand and turned onto his side. Away from Justin.

 

 

Arm around Jeff's waist, Michael asked as Brian got closer to them, "Where's your better half?"

"With Daphne."

"When the cat's away. . ." began Jeff.

"The mice will lick their wounds," Brian finished. To the bartender, "Double Beam."

Michael exchanged glances with Jeff. "Trouble?"

Brian downed the double shot. Shook his head. Then rubbed his temple. "Headache."

"Sure that helped."

Emmett and Ted came over from the dance floor, Em still dancing even though his partner of the moment had abandoned him for another firefly in the night. "You look like shit," he told Brian.

"It's a hard knock life," said Ted and Em laughed recognizing the reference to Annie.

"Maybe you and the Boy Wonder should ease off exploring the bat cave for a few hours," Michael suggested and Jeff tried not to snicker.

"Newlyweds," declared Em as if that explained it all.

Shaking his head, Brian closed his eyes and said softly, "Shut the fuck up."

The guys looked at him with concern. They'd expected him to growl, to slash at them but he barely seemed able to manage it. Michael rubbed his shoulder. "Maybe you should go to the doctor. Get checked out."

"Whatever." He pushed from the bar. This had not been one of his better ideas. "I'm outta here." 

 

Luckily Justin wasn't home when he got there because by then he'd definitely begun to feel a lot under the weather and if Justin had seen him he would have immediately gone into mother mode. As is, maybe he'd be able to gulp down some juice and a couple of Tylenol and go to sleep before the teen got back.

He awoke to the sound of giggling, disoriented, uncertain as to the time or even where he was. It took a moment for him to realize that a) he was home in bed, b) he wasn't under the influence of any illegal drug, and c) he was, in fact, sick.

Listening to Daphne and Justin stumble about the livingroom he was tempted to call out to them but lacked the energy. Hoping they'd keep it down or run out of steam, he closed his eyes and drew the covers up around his neck. Shivering from the chills. Shit, he really would have to go to the doctor's office if this kept up.

"Brian?" Justin entered the bedroom tentatively, as if not believing his partner could be home at this hour. It was relatively early.

"Yeah," he replied and even to him his voice sounded tired and weak. No way Justin would fail to take note of that.

Sure enough, Justin came to his side and sat next to him. "You okay?"

"Think I'm coming down with something." _Mothering to begin in five, four, three, two, one. . ._

"I'll get you some juice." He felt Brian's forehead. "No fever. Are you cold?"

"Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"Go play with Daphne. I'm going back to sleep." But he knew without being able to hear them that Justin had gone out and told her that the night was over and he had to take care of Brian because soon he heard the door open and shut and in a moment Justin returned. With a glass of juice.

"Drink this."

"I'm not thirsty."

"You need the vitamin C." Giving in, Brian drank it. Easier to get it over with than to argue. "I could make you some tea or cocoa if you're cold," Justin offered.

"No, I- -"

"Maybe I should take your temperature." He started to the bathroom. Stopped. "Do we have any cold medicine?"

"Justin!" Brian yelled, scaring the teen. Justin looked round meekly at him. "Come to bed." Although he worried about Justin picking up any bug that he might have caught, both of them being sick was marginally preferable to him being sick and Justin playing nursemaid. 

 

By Sunday afternoon he knew he'd have to seek professional help if only to escape from Justin's relentless care. He seemed bound and determined to smother the sickness out of Brian by remaining by his side every moment of the day when he wasn't fetching something for Brian or cooking something for him or concocting one of his grandmother's noxious brews guaranteed to cure what ailed you. Brian could only conclude that the woman must have been a walking medical encyclopedia of illnesses.

He woke once during the early evening sweating profusely, so much so that the sheets were soaked through and sticking to his skin.

Worried, Justin said, "Maybe we should go to the hospital now."

But Brian shook his head. "I'll go to my guy tomorrow. I'm not dying." Only, he felt like it. Throat like sandpaper, lungs burning, head pounding, hot as hell, cold as ice, and coughing every twenty-two seconds. Justin had gone out and gotten him some cold and flu medicine but his body resisted any and all attempts to provide him any relief. So he suffered. And counted the hours until his doctor's office opened.

 

 

Fidgeting in the waiting room, Brian having disappeared a half hour ago into the back in the care of a very concerned male nurse, Justin attempted to concentrate on the magazine in his hands but couldn't. Not that he thought anything was seriously wrong with Brian other than a bad case of the flu, he just hated being in hospitals or doctor's offices anymore. Nine months after his bashing, he still had to go in for periodic check-ups every six weeks or so in order to monitor the neurological damage that had been done and to make sure no new problems had arisen. Usually Brian was the one who waited while he went into the back and was poked and prodded for an hour or so. He didn't much care for it. Then again, he didn't care for waiting either. Still, worrying about it wasn't going to help matters. He attempted the magazine again. Mind drifted. . .

"Want me to forward your mail here?"

He jerked. Looked up and saw Brian staring down at him. "What?"

"Let's go. I fuckin' hate being around sick people."

Hurrying to catch up with Brian, who had taken off walking without waiting for Justin, the teen asked, "So? What's wrong?"

"Flu."

Justin was glad he'd gotten a flu shot in December. He'd tried to convince Brian to get one too but the man had resisted.

"Wants me to stay home for a few days. No goddamn way." Punched the down button on the elevator. Coughed for a few seconds, fighting to get his breath back. Said weakly, "Shit."

Justin maneuvered him into the elevator when the doors opened. "You're staying home." 

 

"So," he heard Justin say, "the doctor says he has to stay home all week. You mind coming over and checking on him tomorrow while I'm at work?"

"I'm not a fuckin' invalid!" Brian yelled using the last of his reserves.

"Yeah, that was His Big and Badness."

Brian succumbed to a coughing fit. Slumped to the bed once he was done trying to bring up a lung.

"I gotta go. Thanks." Justin appeared in the doorway but Brian waved him away. The teenager held up his hands. "All right. I'll be in here if you need me."

Brian closed his eyes. Tried to remember what it had been like to be sick before Justin had moved in. He hardly ever got sick. There'd been that time he got food poisoning from eating some bad pie. But Justin had taken care of him. Before that, couple years ago, he'd slipped on the steps inside Babylon, totally fucking high on E and drunk besides, and he'd sprained his ankle, was in a hard cast for two weeks and then a gel cast for three. But he'd been able to get around. And guys were surprisingly turned on by a hottie on crutches.

The last time he'd had the flu bad enough to put him out of commission, he'd been with Cam. And Cam had brought that awful tasting chicken soup. Least Justin was a better cook. Brian smiled and sniffled. It still got to him sometimes, that Cam was gone. Even though they'd been apart for years when he died, they'd finally made peace with one another, and that made him both happy and sad. Happy that they'd parted ways without any hard feelings between them and sad that they hadn't gotten a chance to maybe become friends. In time. _Maybe,_ Brian thought, _we would have never been friends._ He felt a tear crawl down his cheek and wiped it away. Fuckin' flu. Being sick always made him maudlin. Which was why he never allowed himself to get sick.

An hour later Justin checked in on him. He'd taken a couple cat naps during that time and had just woken up when Justin perched on the bed beside him. "How you feeling?"

Brian sniffed. "I stink."

Laughing, Justin said, "I didn't ask you how you smelled. I asked you how you felt."

"Like shit."

"That explains the smell," joked Justin and Brian chuckled, a little short of breath. "Time for your medicine." He shook two Tylenols from the bottle and handed then to Brian along with a glass of water. Waited for him to finish swallowing and took the glass back. Passed him the nasal spray the doctor had given him. Brian inhaled and gave it back. "Feel like eating?"

Brian shook his head. Just the thought of food made him feel queasy.

"Not even a little soup?" Again he shook his head. Justin cupped his face, stroked his cheek with his thumb. "Okay." Taking the tumbler with him, Justin left him to sleep once more.

 

 

Trying not to feel as if he were being abandoned, Brian watched Justin get ready for work. He had picked up a couple extra shifts at the diner and wouldn't be home until the early evening.

"So who's coming over to babysit while you're gone?"

Justin pulled his sweater down. "Daphne."

Brian groaned. Not the other half of the Wonder Twins. "Kill me now."

"She's coming over at lunchtime to see that you eat. So eat something."

"Aye aye, sir."

Kissing Brian on the forehead, Justin asked seriously, "You'll be okay until twelve?"

"Go." And as Justin walked out of the room, he grumbled, ". . . like I'm a fuckin' two-year-old." Only, he really wished Justin wasn't going away. _Stop being a big baby,_ he told himself. _Shit, it's just eight hours. You'll live._ Then he remembered his replacement nursemaid. Maybe not. 

Pushing back the door extra hard because of the weight, Daphne announced her arrival with a bang. "Sorry," she said to the empty room. "Brian?"

"In here," he called. _And thus it begins._

She climbed the steps to the bedroom and waved. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied with all of the energy he could summon, which wasn't much.

"You hungry?"

"No," he replied, "but I've been ordered to eat." He sat up in bed. Wiped sweat from his brow. "What you got?"

"Chicken soup and crackers."

"Yipee."

Taking that as her cue, Daphne retreated into the kitchen and returned having poured the soup into a bowl and crumbled a couple of the crackers over top. There was also a glass of orange juice on the bed tray along with the bowl of soup. Carefully, she sat it over his lap.

Justin had gone out yesterday and bought the damn thing. Cost eighty fuckin' dollars and made Brian feel like a total ward case. He was waiting for Justin to put him in one of those backless paper gowns and a pair of fuzzy slippers, then his transformation would be complete.

"Well," Daphne said, "eat."

"Yes, ma'am," he grumbled and lifted the spoon to his lips. The sooner he ate the sooner he could go back to sleep.

Having sat on the top step to make sure he ate every drop and drank all of his juice, Daphne removed the tray when he was done and spent a few minutes putting everything away. When she came back, Brian had already fallen asleep. She smiled. He really did look pretty innocent when he was asleep. Totally deceptive. There was nothing innocent about Brian and even though he'd given Justin a ring, she didn't think it'd be smooth sailing from here on. But that was Brian.

"Oh," she chirped, remembering. Went into the other room and called Justin on his cell. "Yeah, I'm here. He ate the soup and now he's asleep. I'm gonna hang out a little while longer in case he needs something. No, I don't mind." She nodded, listening to his instructions about taking Brian's temperature and waking him for fluids. "Okay. Later." Grabbing her bag, she took out a trashy historical romance novel she'd been reading off and on for a couple days and settled down on the sofa. Not that anything in a novel could compare to Brian and Justin's romance but not everybody was as lucky- - or unlucky- - as they were. Some people had to settle for living vicariously.

_Margaret loosened the drawstrings on her bodice. . ._

She was still there when Justin got home at five. Met him at the door.

"Daph?" he said, immediately worried.

"He started coughing really badly and said he was having trouble breathing. Sounded totally congested," she explained, following him to the bedroom. "So I went out and got a humidifier."

Brian was lying in bed with the humidifier on the nightstand. He seemed to be asleep, and his breathing sounded okay.

"I'm glad you were here."

She shrugged. "You need anything?"

"We're fine." Walked with her to the door. "Thanks, Daph." Only once she was gone, he returned to the bed and sat the foot, so as not to disturb Brian, and watched him sleep. The doctor had said it'd only last a few days, three or four at the most, and that it shouldn't get any worse. After all, Brian was in good shape. Maybe it was just that he was tired outside of being sick. The trial and everything after had taken a lot out of both of them. Probably all Brian needed was a week at home and he'd be good as new. Good being a figurative term. 

 

After having fought Brian to get him to eat dinner, Justin figured he'd need a week to recover from Brian being home sick for a week.

"I want to take a shower."

"You're too weak."

Brian frowned. "You can help me."

"Brian- -"

"I stink." He thought. "And the shower might help with the congestion in my chest."

"You've got the humidifier." But he saw that Brian wasn't going to give up on the idea. "Fine," he agreed gracelessly. Drew back the covers and held out his hand. "Come on." As Brian stood and settled his arm around Justin's shoulder the teen wrinkled his nose. "You do stink."

"Fuck you," Brian whispered.

"What?" Justin asked. "Did you say something?"

Once they were in the bathroom, Justin stripped and then helped Brian with his briefs. Turned on the water and held on to Brian's arm as the man got in the shower with him. Grabbed the soap and began sudsing him up.

"Trying to grope me?" Brian asked, arms around Justin's shoulders and draped over his back.

Even though they were practically rubbing up against one another, Brian's illness had driven all carnal thoughts from Justin's mind. Okay, most carnal thoughts. A few had remained, hiding in the corners. "Save your breath. You're not getting any action until you're better. All better." Dipping his hand down between Brian's thighs, Justin soaped his cock and balls, his groin, and studiously tried to think good thoughts and not dwell on the fact that his own cock was getting ideas.

Having dried Brian off, Justin led him back to the bedroom and had him sit while he got out a clean pair of briefs, knelt and slipped them up over his slim hips. Brian raised up to let him get them all the way on, then laid back and waited while Justin rearranged the covers. He'd just gotten Brian settled down when someone knocked on the door. He sighed. It had to be the guys. Or Lindsay. Or Deb. Or somebody else who was going to keep Brian up talking instead of sleeping. Resigning himself to the inevitable, he grabbed a pair of sweats and answered the door.

Of course it was Mikey, and Em, and Ted, and Deb. Deb was carrying what looked like the world's biggest pot of chicken soup; Ted had a couple of books; Mikey had a stack of comics; and Emmett had a lovely lounging gown. Unfortunately, it would have looked perfect with a pair of mules. Not exactly the kind of thing Brian would wear. Would be seen in. Would be seen dead in.

"Hey, guys."

"So, where's the patient?" Em asked. "I've been practicing my bedside manner."

"I thought that was your in-bed manner," said Ted.

Deb put down the pot of soup. "It's hot as hell in here."

"He's been having the chills," Justin explained.

Michael made a bee-line for the bedroom. "I brought you some light reading," he told Brian. Gestured back at the other room. "Ted brought you some sleeping pills."

"Jane Austen or Edith Wharton?"

Mikey frowned. "Both."

Brian rolled his head on the pillow. "He's trying to kill me."

"So are you okay?" Michael asked his best friend, sitting next to him on the bed, heedless of the risk.

"Truth?" Michael leaned closer. "I feel like I'm dying. Help me up."

"What?" After that confession, it was the last thing Michael would have exprected him to say.

"I can't let Justin know. Least if I go out there for a little while, he won't worry himself to death."

Not certain it was smart to depend upon a sick man's logic, Michael helped him up anyway, found his robe, and belted it around him.

"There he is," said Deb as she spotted him. "How you feel, kiddo?"

"Like I could fuck an entire fraternity." As she groaned, he added, "Speaking of which," he asked Justin, "have you finished planning for your party Saturday?"

"I'm not having it."

"The fuck you aren't."

Justin rolled his eyes. "You're sick."

"I'll be better by Saturday."

Deb raised an eyebrow. "You might as well give up, Sunshine." She hugged him. "Don't worry. If he still can't get it up by Saturday, you can drive him over to my place and I'll give him a little TLC."

Shuddering, Brian promised, "I'll be well. Besides, you haven't seen your little friends for what? A whole month almost? You must be going crazy. He hasn't talked to Xavier in four weeks. I think their previous record was four hours. Maybe." Justin stuck out his tongue. Got the requisite, "Kids."

After that Justin tuned out the rest of their conversation. Xavier. Shit. Why'd Brian have to bring him up? First Daphne, now Brian. And the last thing he wanted to do was to think about Xavier. There was nothing to think about. He'd go on campus tomorrow and do some work in his studio, put the invitations in everyone's boxes, and hope that enough people had returned so that his party wouldn't be a total dud. If he was lucky, the kids on the Diversity Council would show up. They were so cool. If they'd had a group like that at St. James. . . No, he definitely wouldn't think about St. James and Chris Hobbs tonight.

"What?" Brian asked, shifting his attention from the rest of the guys.

"Nothing." It amazed him that Brian had noticed anything at all. Especially since he seemed to be barely holding on as is. That was it. Justin stood. "I think Brian needs to get some rest."

Grinning at one another, the guys took the not-so-subtle hint. "Yes, sir," said Ted. "I love a forceful man."

"You love a man with a good whip," replied Emmett.

"That too," Ted agreed.

 

 

Although not everyone was accounted for, enough people had come back from the holidays that Justin could be assured a decent turn-out for his party. Which was a good thing since Brian had ordered this big-assed cake for his birthday. Chocolate and raspberry. Three huge layers. Decorated like a wedding cake. Actually, Justin thought it might be a Groom's cake. Anyway, Brian had insisted. Now, if he could only get Rennie and Daphne to help with the decorations. He didn't know about Xavier, didn't know how his friend would react to the changes in his life. Didn't know if Xavier would even want to talk to him after what had happened before Christmas. He hoped the break had given Xavier time to put some distance between himself and his feelings but he wasn't betting any money on it.

As he neared Xavier's studio, Justin thought he heard Rennie's voice. So they were back. Probably got back today or maybe last night. After the gang had left, he'd turned off the ringers on the phones- - even his cell- - not wanting to disturb Brian's sleep again. So they might have tried to reach him but couldn't. Standing outside the door for a few moments, Justin told himself that it would be okay, that Xavier would be able to handle it. He knocked once and pushed the door open. Saw Rennie and Xavier huddled around one of Xavier's pieces. "Hey." Waved.

Rennie was the first to spot him and it. "Hey, Boy Wonder- - What the fuck? Is that a fucking ring? A fucking commitment ring?" She grabbed his hand and examined it. "Shit." Held Justin's hand up so Xavier could see. "Look at this."

Taking a step forward, Xavier stopped. Justin could see the question in his eyes. Answered it.

"He gave it to me New Year's Day."

Xavier's eyes flitted towards the ring, then away. "It's nice."

"Nice?" asked Rennie. "It's fuckin' gorgeous. Shit," she said again.

"Listen," Justin said before he forgot, "you're coming to my party on Saturday right?" He handed them both invitations. Xavier, he noticed, hesitated before taking his. But he did take it. "And," he added, "I kinda need help decorating. Daphne's here and she's helping but. . ."

"Cool," commented Rennie. "I'm there. Want us to come over Friday or Saturday?"

"Saturday's fine. Besides, Brian's sick and I wanna give him all the time he needs to get better."

Immediately Rennie looked concerned. "What's wrong with him?"

Justin thought Brian would get a kick out of her reaction. "Flu."

"Maybe I should come over and take care of him." Justin waved his ring in her face. "Oh yeah. Well, I could still come over."

"Saturday afternoon," he told her. Stole a glance at Xavier. God, he was glad she was there. He didn't know what would have happened if they'd been alone. As is, Xavier looked like someone had just kicked him in the balls. "You coming?" he asked him certain Xavier wouldn't make a scene with Rennie standing there.

"Yeah," he replied, although they both knew he'd rather not.

Wanting to make a fast break, Justin said, "I gotta finish handing out invitations. Later."

"Later, Boy Wonder," said Rennie but Xavier just stared after him.

Justin could feel his eyes on his back long after he'd left them. 

 

Brian was sitting in the living room in one of the armchairs in front of the television when Justin got home. The teen went over and kissed him on his neck. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah."

Justin thought he didn't sound better but he'd take him at his word. Brian had been chaffing at the bit at having to stay home another day but he'd gotten up this morning and known immediately that he wouldn't be able to make it. Only two days left in the week and Brian wasn't fooling anyone. He'd be at home Thursday and Friday. Not for the first time did Justin consider cancelling the party anyway, despite Brian's insistence that he go through with it.

"You hungry?"

"No."

That's when it struck him, that something wasn't kosher. Brian seemed a little tense. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

But he wouldn't look at Justin.

"Brian. . . what's wrong?"

Not taking his eyes from the TV, Brian replied, "I thought you'd be back before now."

It was six o'clock. He'd gone into his studio for a few minutes after leaving Xavier and Rennie and a few minutes had turned into a couple of hours. He hadn't thought Brian would even notice, had figured he'd sleep while he was gone. Feeling he had nothing really to apologize for, Justin, nevertheless, did. "I'm sorry. I guess I lost track of time." Kneaded Brian's shoulders gently to loosen the tight muscles. "You hungry?"

Brian switched the channel. "Maybe."

Almost laughing, Justin kissed him again and stood. Went into the kitchen and got busy.

When the phone rang fifteen minutes later he had his hands wrist-deep in ground beef and veal, making meatloaf, Brian having told him in no uncertain terms that he was 'fuckin' sick of chicken soup.' "Brian? Can you get that?"

Slowly, Brian made his way to the telephone and picked up. "Yeah?" Listened. "I'll live. Where's my son?" He waited. Then, "Hey, Sonny Boy." Smiled as Gus called to him. Sat on the edge of the sofa listening to the baby babble. Finally Gus ran out of conversation and Lindsay came back on. "Yeah, I'm almost over it," he told her. "But the Wa- -" He stopped himself. "Justin says I should stay home the rest of the week." She agreed. "Whatever. Yeah, I'll do that." Stood and put the phone back in its cradle.

When he didn't immediately return to the sofa, Justin asked, "Everything all right?"

"Gus says, 'Hey.' " He sat down. Spoke just loud enough for Justin to hear him. "Don't take any shit from me, okay?"

Puzzled, Justin replied, "Okay." Maybe it was the flu talking.

 

 

Daphne had seemed almost as glad to see Xavier and Rennie as she had been to see him. He tried not to feel a twinge of jealousy over that. Especially since he knew that he was her best friend, hands down, no matter what. And especially since she had managed to get a smile out of Xavier when he certainly couldn't. Justin wondered if he and Xavier would ever patch things up between them. True, Xavier didn't mope around but he didn't joke with Justin the way he used to, didn't touch him anymore. He wondered if the girls noticed or if they were making a concerted effort to pretend that everything was normal. Still, he had too much on his mind to worry overly much about it. Least not right now. There was the party to attend to. And Brian.

The man had begun to show signs of recovering. Mainly, he'd begun to bitch and moan about everything. In spite of keeping mostly to the bedroom and out of the way, he managed to make his displeasure known whenever they did something he didn't agree with. The furniture wasn't arranged right. The decorations were hung improperly. They couldn't leave his computer out on the desk like that. Why weren't all the ash trays out?

"Why'd you marry this guy again?" Xavier finally said and the girls laughed not hearing the edge in his voice, put there by jealousy.

"He asked," Justin replied and immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing.

Xavier shrugged and went back to stringing the chili pepper lights between the columns near the chaise lounge.

Taking a break, Justin went into the bedroom and confronted Brian who was sitting on the bed flipping through Men's Health and drinking orange juice. "Are you going to be like this during the party?"

"Like what?" Brian asked all innocence and light.

"A pain in the ass," Justin replied in a deadpan voice.

Brian sipped his juice. "If you don't want me here, just say so, and I'll find someplace else to go." Coughed. "I should be able to manage on my own."

Justin swore, rolling his eyes. "Christ on a stick."

Arching a brow, Brian asked, "Did I tell you 'Happy Birthday' yet?"

"No."

"Happy Birthday, baby," he purred and Justin felt his stomach ripple. Shit. That was why he put up with him, cause no one else could make his stomach feel like that. Sick, still a little pale, and not up to even a mild one, Brian still managed to make him feel like he was about to be fucked for hours. Shaking his head, Justin smiled and returned to the other room. He could hear Brian laughing softly. Bastard. 

 

The loft looked fabulous. They'd rented a long table for the food and drinks where the cake held center court. Bowls of tortilla chips and salsa, potato chips and dip were placed strategically throughout the apartment. As were ash trays and trash cans. The furniture was protected by covers Brian had had made years ago when he first realized that white was not a party-friendly color. All it'd taken was a bottle of red wine, a very drunk twinkie, his white sofa, and a very large bill for the reupholstering to convince him that stain-proof covers were the way to go. Besides which, he intended to monitor the proceedings from a discreet position to make sure things stayed under control.

He, of course, looked fabulous too. Determined not to steal Justin's thunder on his big day, he'd dressed conservatively. For him. Which meant his denim shirt and not the black silk Versace, and his relaxed blue jeans instead of the tight black ones. Still, he looked good. Despite having been at Death's door.

Justin looked fabulous as well in his grey and burgandy pullover, black chinos. For an Old Navy poster boy, he sizzled, and Brian couldn't wait until the moment when he felt up to anything more than just thinking about sex.

Coming up behind Justin as the teen surveyed his surroundings, Brian whispered in his ear. "Happy?"

"Uh-huh."

Brian kissed his ear. "How old are you again?"

"Nineteen."

"Hey nineteen," Brian sang and this time Justin didn't mention that it was an old song. He didn't do anything but bask in the feel of his man's lips against his skin. Brian gave him a final kiss and pulled away. Took his hand. "Come here."

"What?" asked Justin as they went into the bedroom. _He can't be thinking about doing that?_ Justin thought. 

Then Brian went to the closet and took out a gift-wrapped present. Held it out towards him. "Happy Birthday. Before everyone else gets here."

Justin took the gift. It was heavy as shit. Sat on the bed and opened it after admiring the tasteful wrapping. Carefully ran his finger between the layers to pull up the tape.

"Would you hurry up?"

"No. I want to savor it," Justin replied before opening the paper to reveal the present inside. "Brian. . ." He could hardly believe it. A book. On Lucian Freud. A book on Lucian Freud that had been out-of-print for years. "Where'd you get this?"

"Amazon.com. Used. You like it?"

Justin stood and hugged the man. Now he knew why Brian had given him his present ahead of time cause he could already feel the tears in his eyes. "I love you."

"Remember that," Brian instructed him. Kissed him along the jaw then eased him away. "No time to play," he said despite the fact that he wasn't really up to it anyway, "your guests will be here soon." Grimaced. "Fifty teenagers."

"Some of them are older."

"Oh yeah, all of twenty-two-years-old. The horror," Brian mumbled, going into the other room to check on something that didn't need checking on.

As he placed his book next to the bed, planning to look through it before he went to sleep tonight, Justin said fondly, "Asshole." 

 

Outside of nearly retching from the smell of someone's overbearing cologne, Brian was actually enjoying himself. Granted, he wasn't exactly in full party mode but he felt well enough to perch ont he top step in the doorway of the bedroom and nurse a very weak gin and tonic, the only one he was allowed all evening, Dr. Justin's orders. Both Rennie and Daphne had come over trying to persuade him to dance with them but he turned them down. He definitely wasn't up to dancing, not even as little as he generally moved. Justin was always teasing him about his mediocre dancing, even going so far as to offer to give him lessons. Brian didn't mind. He knew his best moves were reserved for the horizontal samba at which he was the undisputed master. He grinned.

Justin came over to check on him. Again. "What are you grinning about?"

"Nothing."

"Come dance with me."

"Nah-ah."

"Tired?"

"Go enjoy your party."

So the teen left him once more, was snagged by a group of people who had to have been members of the IFA's Diversity Council. One guy was like the fuckin' Olympic torch. Total flamer.

Then he saw Xavier walk close by Justin. Something was up with those two. They hadn't been as easy with one another as they'd been in the past. He resolved to ask Justin about it. Meanwhile, he'd keep an eye on them.

Justin touched Xavier's arm. Said something Brian couldn't hear. He noticed Xavier hesitate, then nod. They moved out into the clearing where others were dancing and proceeded to put on a show. No slouch himself, Xavier definitely fed Justin's fire when it came to dancing. The two of them held court center stage, two nineteen-year-olds turning the heat up notch by notch. In his head he could hear the words of the song he'd sung to Justin:

_Hey Nineteen  
No we got nothing in common   
No we can't talk at all   
Please take me along   
When you slide on down_

Was that what it was going to be like? Justin taking him along for the ride as he journeyed through life? A life he'd already lived, had already experienced over a decade ago? A life Justin and Xavier could easily share, discovering new things, growing old together. . .

Having watched them for a few minutes, Brian grabbed his coat. Paused by Daphne. "Tell Justin I went down to the coffee shop on the corner. The noise," he explained. Pecked her on the cheek and left. 

 

"Double latte." Glanced around. Place was nearly empty. Good.

The guy behind the counter smiled, worked on his order. Recognized Brian from the many times he and Justin had been in there. "So where's your boyfriend?"

"Hosting a party." Paused. "It's his birthday."

"Hey. . . How old?"

"Nineteen," Brian replied. _Hey Nineteen/ No we got nothing in common. . ._

The guy nodded. "Why aren't you there?"

Inside he thought, Cause I'm not. But aloud, he replied, "I can't get into Destiny's Child." He dropped a couple quarters in the tip jar, found a seat and slumped down into it, throat too tight to drink the coffee he'd bought. 

 

An hour and a half later he trudged back home, head pounding, having forgotten his Tylenol, and fully anticipating having to explain his absence to a very irate nineteen-year-old.

He wasn't wrong.

Justin met him at the door. The party was over. Everyone had been sent home. The cake had been demolished. The apartment still stood.

He eased past the birthday boy. "Hey."

The door closed behind him. "Where were you?"

"Didn't Daphne tell you?"

"Why'd you go?"

"I told her that too." He headed for the bedroom. "My fuckin' head is pounding." Flipped the cap on the bottle and palmed a couple of tablets.

Justin had followed him. "I offered to cancel the party."

"I told you I didn't want that."

"Well, I wanted you here."

"I was here."

"You left."

"I told you why. And it was only for an hour."

"An hour and a half."

Shit, this was going nowhere and he really wanted to lie down and close his eyes. No chance of that with the mood Justin was in. "So, did you get any nice presents?"

"You mean you care?" Justin asked as he left the room.

Fuck. Brian stood next to the bed uncertain as to what he should do. Part of him suggested just going to bed and letting Justin cool off and the other part of him said he'd probably be better off dealing with it now. So, praying that his headache subsided, he traced Justin's steps, found him sitting in the livingroom on the sofa which had been temporarily relocated next to the window. He sat next to him. Waited.

"There's cake left." At Brian's glance towards the table, Justin explained, "I saved you a piece. It's in the fridge."

"Thanks, baby."

Justin glared at him. "Don't 'baby' me. You were sick. Anything could have happened to you."

"I was in the coffee shop, not Afghanistan." He reached for Justin's hand but the teen pulled away. Brian leaned forward, arms around his waist, head bowed. "So now I can't touch you?"

Justin relaxed but still wasn't satsified. "Don't do that again."

"I won't."

"Cause- - "

"I said I won't," Brian repeated, heading off a potentially long lecture. Stood. "I gotta lay down." With Justin close behind him, Brian made his way to the bedroom, got his clothes off, and crashed. The last thing he remembered before shutting down was Justin snuggling up to him. And he smiled. He was forgiven.

 

 

Xavier was a hottie, he had to give him that. Talented too. He could see it from the piece he was working on. Besides, he had Justin's word on the subject and Justin was serious about art, would never equivocate even if it was about one of his friends. Watching him through the window of his studio, Brian told himself that he was probably making a big, fucking mistake but he had no choice. The party was a week behind them and still he couldn't erase the picture of Xavier and Justin dancing together from his mind. Worse, he had seen the look in Xavier's eyes when he looked at Justin and no matter what Justin said, Xavier wanted him. There wasn't any point in pretending it meant anything else. So it was time for them to talk.

He knocked once, then opened the door.

Xavier looked around, saw who it was, and, confident Brian was looking for Justin, said, "He's not here."

"He's home." Statement.

Pausing, Xavier replied, "Oh." Put down his tools.

Brian had to give it to him, he was quick. He knew why Brian was there. "You two looked pretty good out there on the dance floor together."

"Justin's a good dancer."

Brian nodded. Shifted gears. "Does he know?"

Instead of pretending he didn't know what Brian was talking about, Xavier answered truthfully. "He knows."

So something had happened. He didn't want to know what. Couldn't know. He was a coward, he knew that, but he didn't think he could walk away knowing what had occured between them. All that mattered was that he and Justin were together. "He's not going to leave me."

Xavier turned away.

"He loves me. We love each other. That's the only thing in this entire fucking world that I know to be true."

"I know that he loves you," Xavier admitted.

"Do you? I mean really know it? You sure there's not some small part of you that believes he might walk away from me, come running to you?"

The teen avoided Brian's eyes.

"Of course there is. You wouldn't be human if you didn't." He continued, "But it's not going to happen."

"You worried it might?"

Brian replied calmly, "No."

Angry now, Xavier asked, "Then why are you here?"

"Because he likes you. Hell, I like you. And I don't want to see you get hurt. Whatever fantasy you've concocted in your head, in your dreams, it's just that: a fantasy. And you're only going to hurt yourself."

"Could you stop loving him?" Xavier looked Brian dead in the eyes. "If someone told you that it was hopeless, that it was over between the two of you, could you do it? Just shut off your feelings?"

Brian looked away then back. "I don't have to."

"That's not what I asked you," challenged Xavier.

Hand on the doorknob, Brian paused. "You wanna be his friend, be his friend. I'm not standing in your way. But if you push this," he paused, not wanting to threaten but needing to make himself perfectly clear, "if you push him. . . I'll be back." Not waiting to hear if Xavier had a reply, Brian left the studio and strode down the hall, stopping in the stairwell. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Fuck. What the fuck had happened? And why hadn't Justin told him about it? 

 

It was damned near impossible not to start in on Justin when he got home. He trembled from the effort. Plus, he was terrified Xavier had alerted Justin to his little visit and was scared to death of walking into an argument that he couldn't walk away from. But he slid the door open and entered without being attacked. Justin looked over the back of the sofa where he was reading. "What'd you get?"

He'd stopped for food, that had been his excuse in the first place. "Vietnamese."

"Cool." Justin put away his book and joined Brian in the kitchen. Stole a kiss before taking down the plates.

All during dinner Brian kept wanting to bring up Xavier but couldn't find a way or a reason to do so without arousing Justin's curiosity and once Justin got curious about something, he wouldn't stop until he'd gotten to the heart of it. Once or twice he started to mention Xavier and each time he stopped himself.

Having eaten on the floor of the living room, they remained there afterwards. Brian leaned against the edge of the sofa with Justin in his arms looking out of the windows at the night sky. Tightening his hold, he kissed him on the cheek. Justin smiled and looked back at him. And suddenly it didn't matter anymore, Xavier didn't matter anymore, or the years between them, or anything. All that mattered, all that counted was them together. They were together, they were committed, and being committed meant trusting the other person with your heart, with your life if necessary. And he trusted Justin. After all that they'd been through, he had no doubts. He returned Justin's smile. Their lips met. Parting slightly from him, Brian said, "I love you."

"Yeah?" asked Justin, a grin on his face. He would never get tired of Brian saying that.

"Yeah."

He turned in his lover's arms, straddled his hips. Kissed Brian again, deeply. "I think I need more proof."

Justin was pressed against him and Brian could feel his cock through the thin material of his sweats. Taking Justin's right hand in his, he closed his lips around his ring finger. Sucked gently, tongue swirling around the digit. Slid his lips down the length of it until they encountered his ring. As he continued to suck and lick his finger, he cupped Justin's groin, feeling the teen's cock and balls grow heavier as he sucked harder on his finger. Justin sighed and withdrew his finger to the tip, slid it back into the warmth of Brian's mouth. Again he withdrew it completely, saliva shining on his flesh and on the metal of his ring. He could only imagine that it was his cock, wet and throbbing. Brian ran his tongue over the tip and Justin shivered.

Now was the time. Taking Justin's entire finger in his mouth once more, Brian snatched down the teenager's sweats. Justin's dick bobbed free, the tip moist already. Releasing the finger, he gobbled the cock. Down all the way to the base, then back up again. Pulled free. Tongue snaked over the head, around the head. Gave it a series of gentle kisses that began at the slit trailed down to the root and back up again. Justin uttered a cry which he swallowed as Brian swallowed him.

Completely inside of Brian's mouth, Justin could feel his tongue, the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat, all working in concert to pleasure his cock. Groaning, he sucked in a breath as the head of his cock dragged against the ridges inside Brian's mouth. The slit gaped and dripped precum. Brian released him and lapped it up, lips stained with clear liquid. "Oh," Justin moaned, a prelude to begging which was cut short by Brian easing him onto the sofa. Head bowed over his throbbing cock, thighs around his leg, Brian went down on him. He could feel Brian's dick hard against his calf, the sensation yet another pulse that beat at his temples, his throat, his chest, his groin. He was burning up, flushed, sweaty. One hand gripping the arm of the sofa, he slid the other down his belly, palm slick with perspiration. Brian entwined his fingers with Justin's, rings touching.

Jacking Justin with his free hand as he sucked his cock, Brian was aware of the teen's balls, firm and round beneath his hand. Hungry for them as well, he turned his attention to the swollen sac, stretching his lips around it, working it with his tongue until Justin began to pant, to jerk beneath him. From balls to cock and back again, Brian greedily devoured his lover's meat, Justin's cries urging him to take his cock in deeper, the head in his throat, hard flesh pressing into soft tissue. He tighten the muscles around it and heard Justin give a great, low groan. Cum spurted against the walls of his throat. Breathing through his nose, he held still, held Justin down while his cock erupted. With a final sigh, Justin relaxed and Brian let him slip free of his lips. Justin's cum-stained cock rested on his belly. Gently, Brian licked him clean, eliciting another moan from his lover. 

 

Having rested for a moment, Brian lifted Justin from the sofa and carried him to their bed. The teen opened his thighs to Brian, waited for the man to settle into place, and then wrapped his legs over his hips. At first they did no more than kiss, swollen lips becoming even more tender as they touched tongue to tongue, exploring one another's mouth as if they'd never done so before.

Brian drew away and nuzzled his throat. Made his way down to Justin's nipples. Licked the hard nubs. Caught one between his teeth. Pulled. Rubbed the other beneath the pad of his finger. Justin shuddered and Brian felt his own cock throb. He knelt over Justin's head and pressed down on his erection, brushed the teen's lips with the head. Teased him. Gently pumped his hips. Justin rose up, trying to catch his lover's cock. Managed to flick his tongue over the tip before Brian pulled away. Frustrated, Justin overturned Brian. They wrestled for a while, neither one gaining the advantage, Brian leaving wet streaks along Justin's skin where his dick touched the teen, until the man gave in, desiring to feel his little boy's mouth on him. Justin crawled over him and latched onto his hard-on.

His lips felt cool at first to Brian and then, in a flash, both their temperatures rose about a hundred degrees and he found himself inside an inferno. Even the saliva that ran down his shaft felt hot.

Bobbing over Brian's groin, Justin fed on his lover's cock, wanting more and more of the thick shaft, the swollen head. Rising up, he formed a tight seal just below the rim and sucked him hard, heard Brian moan, felt him shiver.

Shit, Brian didn't know how much longer he could stand it. He wanted to fuck Justin now but he also wanted the teen to continue sucking him, mauling his dick. If there had been some way for Justin to thrust his tongue inside his cock, he would have begged for it. As is, Justin pressed on either side of the engorged head, so that his slit opened wide, and tongued his hole until he thought he would scream.

He felt around on the nightstand for the lube, found it, and held it up over Justin's behind. Flipped the top and squeezed the clear liquid between his cheeks. The thick fluid seeped over the teen's wrinkled hole, wetting the folds first before dripping down onto Brian's chest. He pressed his finger against the center and began rubbing Justin's anus in a circular motion. Felt Justin moan around his dick, the vibrations making him harder. He eased the tip of his finger inside the wet hole, tight muscles coaxed open by his gentle probing.

Justin wanted Brian in him now. His finger was driving him crazy. Inching inside him, feeling around the inner rim of his hole, rubbing against the top of his ass, slipping out only to push back in even more insistent than before. And all the while he continued to blow Brian, urging him to lengthen, to thicken, to harden, rubbing his face, his lips, his cheeks against the slippery shaft. Letting Brian slip free, he pulled away from his lover's finger and turned around. Grabbed Brian's dick and held it in place while he sat down upon it. Moaned as Brian stretched him open. Eyes shut he could see the man's dick as it made its way up his hole. Caught his lip between his teeth as the head squeezed past his prostate. God, it felt so good. Dizzy, he released Brian and paused, a third of Brian's cock left to take. Taking a deep breath, he pressed down and consumed the last few inches. Slowly, he began to rise.

He watched as Justin's dick bobbed lazily between them, the teen leisurely riding his cock. Precum dripped onto his belly from the gently swaying dick. Tenderly, he took hold of the head and stroked it as Justin continued to rock on top of him. The teen's lips were parted and a string of saliva ran down his chin. Brian reached up and slipped his wet fingers into Justin's mouth, feeding him his own sticky juice.

Justin bounced on his cock, loving each hard inch of him, grunting each time he came to rest on his groin, Brian's pubes tickling his hole, his balls brushing his ass. Pumping his hips, he forced Brian's dick against the walls of his ass, moaning as his inner muscles spasmed, gripped his man like a fist and jacked him hard. Brian could only twist the sheets in his fingers and fight the urge to holler as Justin fucked him.

Reaching up to stroke the teen's raspberry nipples, Brian found his hand captured, ring finger drawn into Justin's mouth, lips tightening around it above just as Justin's muscles had trapped his cock below. Any moment now he was going to lose it. Feeling turnabout was fair play, he freed his hand and encircled Justin's cock, tugged on it, thumb rubbing over the tip, saliva and precum mixing. His ring rolled along the shaft with each jerk, each pull. Justin shook, began whimpering, asshole clenching Brian then relaxing as he tumbled towards his orgasm. One strong spasm jerked him free of Brian and sent cum spurting onto the man's belly. Head lolling about on a sweat-soaked pillow, Brian clenched his teeth, grunted, took a great gulp of air, and came. Cum shot up between Justin's thighs, soaking him. As he came to the end of his climax, Justin settled down once more upon Brian, balls stroking his shaft, coaxing a last few cloudy drops from his cock.

Wet and sticky, they lay together, Justin sprawled on Brian's chest, the man's arms around him, hands lightly resting on the teen's back and behind. 

 

Naked man on a bed, Lucian Freud, 1987 "What's that one called?" Brian asked, looking over Justin's shoulder at the book open on the bed before him.

"Naked man on a bed."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Descriptive."

Justin pushed back at him with his shoulder. "Shut up."

But Brian could hear the humor in his voice. Kissed his shoulder. Come July they'd be in London looking at Freud's work. A whole month away from Pittsburgh, traveling with Justin. He smiled, remembering their trip to the Bahamas.

"You know, he's eighty and he's still working. That's amazing." Justin nudged him again. "You listening to me?"

"Mm-hmm," Brian replied propping his chin on Justin's shoulder and closing his eyes. He couldn't wait.


	3. My Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin celebrate Valentine's Day .

**Sonnet 109**

O, never say that I was false of heart,   
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify.   
As easy might I from myself depart   
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:   
That is my home of love: if I have ranged,   
Like him that travels I return again,   
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,   
So that myself bring water for my stain.   
Never believe, though in my nature reign'd   
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,   
That it could so preposterously be stain'd,   
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;   
For nothing this wide universe I call,   
Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.

**—William Shakespeare**

"Well, I told them," he was saying as he and Ryder entered his office, "that if they wanted the campaign to work they'd- -"

Roses. A dozen deep red roses nestled among baby's breath in a clear vase. Even if he'd wanted to he couldn't have kept a smile from appearing on his face. He plucked the card from amidst the blossoms and opened it.

 _"One dozen, three dozen, a thousand roses wouldn't be enough to show you how much I love you."_ Only Justin didn't have to tell him, he knew; it was the one truth he relied on. It took Marty clearing his throat to bring him out of his reverie. "Yeah?"

"Got any special plans for this evening?" his boss asked.

Shrugged. "Same old same old." He could tell Marty was a little surprised by his answer. After all, he and Justin were newlyweds. So to speak.

After Ryder left, Brian sat at his desk and caressed the silky rose petals. They really were quite beautiful. But not as beautiful as Justin. Removing one closed bud from the bouquet, Brian snipped off the stem and drew it through the buttonhole on his lapel. Pinned it in place, a lazy smile playing about his lips. As if he could have forgotten their first Valentine's Day.

 

 

One hour down and another fifteen minutes to go. Justin hated Tuesday/Thursday classes because they were so long but he liked that they only met twice a week instead of three. He supposed he was impatient because it was Valentine's Day. His and Brian's first one as a couple, a real couple. Although he'd progressed from having to touch his ring every fifteen minutes, he still enjoyed looking at it. Still enjoyed its weight on his finger. Committed. Him and Brian. It continued to amaze him, to astound him sometimes. Especially during one of their 'disagreements,' i.e. knock down, drag out fights. Despite wearing matching rings, they were still Brian and Justin, which meant plenty of fireworks.

Only last week Brian had threatened to kick his "ass from here to the ends of the earth" if he didn't keep it down just because he'd been playing Spiderman in the livingroom on the rig he'd paid for with money he'd earned at the diner. And, of course, he'd gotten mad because he hadn't been that loud, it was just that Brian had been pissed off about something that had happened at work and was trying to take it out on him and he wasn't having it. So, of course, he'd said something very smart back, like, "Where exactly is the ends of the earth?" and when Brian had shown up at his side he'd been sure he was going to get it and good. Or, at the very least, that Brian would have taken his stuff and tossed it out the window. But instead Brian had very quietly explained to him that as his salary paid for the loft, food, gas for the Jeep, drinks at Woody's, and just about every other fuckin' thing they used or consumed, he'd damn well better keep it down. And, of course, he'd shut off the game and stormed out of the room, closing himself in the bathroom where he'd pouted for twenty minutes. During which time he could practically feel Brian's anger creeping foglike through the apartment.

They had made up. Eventually. Lying in bed, both of them ready to put aside their quarrel but neither one of them willing to be the first one to apologize, they'd both turned away from the other and prayed for sleep. But it wouldn't come. Finally, Brian had sighed and Justin had taken it for a sign and crawled over to him and eased up against his back. As Brian had turned and their lips came together in a kiss, they each said that they were sorry. Like a sudden thunderstorm, the tempest had risen and passed away in a moment.

Now, sitting in class, Justin wondered if Brian had gotten the roses he'd sent him. He had saved for a couple weeks to buy them and hoped Brian liked them, that they didn't remind him too much of Cam. He could still see a hint of sadness in Brian's eyes whenever Cam was mentioned. But not as much as he would have seen if they hadn't made peace before Cam had been killed.

Justin could feel Xavier watching him. Without looking that way, he knew his friend was staring at him again, at the ring he wore, thinking of all that signified. For Brian and Justin. For him. Justin remembered the first time Xavier and Rennie had seen the ring, the questions he'd had to endure from Rennie while Xavier looked on heartbroken. Things hadn't resolved themselves between them and yet they refused to let anyone know how far relations had deteriorated. Which meant both of them had to act as if nothing had changed, as if that kiss hadn't occurred.

 _I can't think about that_ , Justin told himself. _Not today. Today is for us. Me and Brian._ And he smiled, trying to imagine what Brian had in store for them. The man had been quite circumspect about the whole thing, claiming that Valentine's Day was a holiday manufactured by the greeting card industry in cahoots with the florists and chocolatiers to boost sales during a slow time of the year. But Justin hadn't bought it at all. He was up to something.

The door opening made him remember where he was. He looked up, saw a delivery man with a single rose and a card. Knew immediately that it was for him. Sure enough Hawkins caught his eye and waved him up front, looking less than pleased to have his lecture interrupted although class was nearly over anyway.

The delivery guy gave him the rose and the card. "You should read it now."

He did. It said, _"Go to the courtyard. B."_ Puzzled but curious as hell, Justin told his instructor, "He wants me to go outside."

"Then go." Hawkins gestured to the class. "By all means, let's all go. Class, follow Mr. Taylor. Maybe we could learn something out there since it's obvious no one is learning anything in here."

So everyone grabbed their bags, Rennie grinning, Xavier frowning, and followed Justin, the delivery guy, and Hawkins out to the courtyard. There was nothing there. Looking at Justin expectantly, the class waited. Justin looked at the delivery guy and the man pointed to the sky. Twenty-two heads swiveled upwards.

And they saw it. A message in the sky.

"Fuck," said Rennie, the awe in her voice apparent. She'd dropped her 'Been there, seen that' attitude entirely, completely overwhelmed by Brian's gesture. She turned to Xavier. "Can you believe it?" Without waiting for an answer, she asked Justin, "Can you?"

But Justin was lost in the sky. There it was. For the entire world to see. Brian loved him.

"There's more."

He took a second set of instructions. _"Meet me at Sans Souci, 6:30 sharp. B."_ Justin beamed, unable to help himself. Sans Souci, the skywriting... this was the best ever. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, it did. Brian always found a way.

Hawkins gazed around him at the still-upturned faces of his students. "Class dismissed," he announced and a few began to trickle away. The delivery guy, his duty discharged, took off too.

Nudging Justin, Rennie asked, "Hot date?"

"The hottest," he confessed. "Brian wants me to meet him at Sans Souci, this really expensive French restaurant."

"He doesn't believe in doing anything halfway, does he?"

"Smart man," said Xavier, and he started to walk away.

"Xavier- -" Justin began but his friend kept going.

"Let him go," counseled Rennie. Then added, "You can't do anything for him, you know?"

He knew. "I just wish. . . he could be happy."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, the voice of reason. "Give Brian back his ring?"

And just the thought alone was enough to hurt him, and cause him to grimace in pain.

"Then let it go."

"But he's my friend."

She bumped him the way Daphne used to, with her hip. "Mine too. I'll keep an eye on him. You go play hubbies with Brian."

And God, he wanted to and yet. . . "Don't leave him alone. Not tonight."

"I won't. We'll watch _Rocky Horror Picture Show."_

"On Valentine's Day?"

She sang, _"I've been making a man/ With blond hair and a tan. . ."_

Laughing he waved as he ambled off. "Later."

It was only as he was walking out to the bus stop to go to work that her words really sank in and he sighed. He'd have to deal with it. Eventually.

Having dressed in the tuxedo Brian had bought him last year, Justin checked his appearance in the mirror. Perfect. Or as perfect as he was going to get with only a half hour to get ready between class and an afternoon shift at the diner. He was lucky to get off when he did cause Deb was short-handed and needed every warm body she could get but it was Valentine's Day and she knew he and Brian probably had made plans and let him go. Although he did feel bad about deserting her, he could hardly wait to get to the restaurant. Checking his watch, he grabbed his keys and coat and ran out the door, setting the alarm first. Never ever forget to set the alarm. It was his daily mantra.

The cab was waiting downstairs and he hopped in breathlessly. Confirmed the address and settled back to enjoy the ride.

Pulling up in front of the restaurant, a brick building that looked like a warehouse, Justin handed over enough cash for the fare plus a generous tip. As the driver thanked him, he sprang out and made himself slowly climb up the stairs towards the unassuming entrance. If it hadn't been for the words "Sans Souci" on a brass plaque next to the door, he wouldn't have known there was a restaurant there. He'd heard about this place for forever and never thought he'd ever get the chance to actually eat there.

The Jeep was nowhere in sight but Brian would have probably had it valet parked someplace. Justin wondered where he'd been between work and here. There hadn't been a sign in the apartment that he'd been there except that Justin's tux had been laid out on the bed, a not-so-subtle hint that he was to wear it tonight. Other than that, nothing. The shower hadn't even been used. Not that he could tell. Anyway, he'd find out soon enough.

Before he could push open the door, someone opened it from the inside and a voice said, "Leave your worries at the door." Hence the name of the restaurant, Sans Souci, 'without worry.' A man in a pair of black slacks and a white shirt gestured towards the interior. "I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

"Thanks," Justin said making his way towards a reservations station where the maitre d' stood.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm supposed to meet someone here." Swallowed. "Brian Kinney?"

The man nodded. Marked off something in his book, presumably their reservation. "This way, sir. Mr. Kinney is expecting you."

They walked across the dimly lit lobby and down a broad wooden staircase through a tall archway down into the lower dining room. A second set lead upstairs to the bar area. The walls were rag-painted a burnt sienna that brought to mind the slutty sweater Brian had worn to Into the Woods. About thirty round tables for parties of four or less were arranged around a central space in which there bubbled a fountain that wouldn't have looked out of place at Versailles. Five chandeliers provided muted light, as did the votives on every table. But the maitre d' did not stop there. Instead he led Justin to one side of the stairwell through a second arched doorway to a another room half the previous one's size but just as dimly lit. Music played softly and couples danced. There were no tables that Justin could see. Why had they come in here and where was Brian?

Still the man led on, deeper into the building, down four steps and into a hallway off of which were six doorways covered with gauzy curtains. He drew back the curtains from one of the doorways and inclined his head.

Justin stepped through into a room filled with light. Candles sat upon every flat surface excluding the floor. When his eyes adjusted he saw Brian, standing by the table, red rose bud in his lapel, wearing his Armani tux. The chandelier overhead brought out the auburn highlights in his hair. Taking a couple of steps closer towards them, Brian extended his arm, offering his hand, which Justin took. Drew his lover into a warm embrace. Kissed him softly upon the lips. "Happy Valentine's Day," Brian breathed against his cheek.

The curtain fell with a hush as the maitre d' left them. Justin stretched up for another kiss. "This is incredible," he confessed. "And the skywriting. . ."

"Liked it?" Brian asked, assured of his response.

"Rennie couldn't believe it. Neither could I. And you should have seen their faces, my whole class came out to see." Another kiss. "Thank you."

Brian tugged on his arm. "Let's dance."

Arm in arm they exited their private room and sauntered out to the dance floor.

Bussing his ear, Brian asked, "You want to lead?" And Justin laughed and took him up on his challenge. Noticed that not a few eyes turned towards them as they began their circuit of the room. "I think they're starstruck," Brian explained.

"It's cause we're the best-dressed and best-looking couple here," said Justin, garnering him a wicked, bright smile from his partner as he'd said that same thing on Justin's birthday date.

Although the music was definitely more wine bar than White Party, they danced to a couple of songs before returning to their room. By then they'd switched leads and Brian had dipped Justin shamelessly and to the amusement of some of the couples around them. When they returned to the room, there were two glasses of Champagne Framboise: champagne with Chambord raspberry liqueur and garnished with raspberries. Between the drinks was a tray of canapes and other assorted hors d'oeuvre including hot brie tartlets. Moving his chair around next to Brian's, Justin placed a few choice tidbits on a plate and offered one to his lover. "Open wide." Brian stretched his mouth open to a prodigious width. "Impressive," Justin said.

"Practice makes perfect," replied Brian and then Justin popped in the appetizer and he was too busy to talk.

Later as they were finishing the last of the finger foods, Justin asked, "When did you plan all this?"

"Let's see," Brian began, "you need to make reservations for the private dining rooms at least a month in advance or you can forget it. The skywriter you can book as late as three weeks in advance but they prefer more notice if they can get it."

Justin finished his glass of champagne. "You didn't wait until the last minute," he concluded, very pleased.

"I didn't wait until the last minute," agreed Brian.

"I love you."

"I know."

"And so modest too."

"My best trait." 

 

Dinner was a lengthy, leisurely affair punctuated by occasional forays onto the dance floor between courses. With an eye to later activities, they decided to forgo any heavy dishes, avoiding rich sauces, opting instead for lighter fare: the consomme of forest mushrooms instead of vichyssoise; filet mignon replaced by pan seared sea bass in a clam broth; chocolate torte put aside for a simple apple tart. In addition to eating lighter, their digestion was aided by their turns on the dance floor so that when they finally paid the bill after nearly two hours of dining and dancing, they felt satisfied but not stuffed. Which was fortunate because the night had only just begun. 

 

It was nice to sit and talk, just the two of them, and not have to discuss anything difficult, to just converse, catch up with one another. Despite living in the same house, there were days when they barely spoke to one another beyond the bare necessities: Morning. Pass the cream. We going out? Turn over.

"Guess what?" Justin said.

"What?"

"There's going to be a Matisse and Picasso exhibition at the Tate Modern this summer in London while we're there AND. . ."

Biting, Brian asked, "And what?"

"And a Lucian Freud exhibit." Justin glowed. Brian had bought him a copy of this out-of-print book about Lucian Freud for his birthday. He hadn't believed it: first, that Brian had paid any attention to what artists he liked and second, that Brian had taken the time to track down a copy of probably the most important book out there on Freud's paintings. But it was the kind of thing he'd do, like today, something completely unexpected and perfect.

Feigning weary resignation, Brian said, "I guess we're going to the Tate then."

Playing along, Justin added, "And the Louvre. . . the Prado. . . the Guggenheim. . ."

"Are we going to spend any time anywhere other than museums?" asked Brian.

Justin grinned. "Our hotel room in London. . . Venice. . . Paris. . . Athens. . ."

Reaching for his hand, Brian rubbed his finger over Justin's ring. "Ah, culture. . ."

 

 

Thinking they were going home, it was only as they turned onto Meridian that Justin realized they were not headed for the loft. Joy brightened his features as they pulled into the parking garage of the Chesapeake Hotel. "That's where you were."

Brian raised a brow and said nothing. Turned off the ignition. "Come on."

Hand in hand they strode through the lobby and into the first available elevator. Brian pushed the button for the top floor. Silenced the upcoming question with a kiss. When they reached their destination, he led Justin past the closest doors to one at the very end of the hallway. "Close your eyes," he ordered.

Blind, Justin waited for Brian to open the door and maneuver him inside. His heart was pounding. He couldn't wait to see.

"Okay."

The first thing he saw was the fireplace, a roaring fire flickering behind the screen; the second was the bed, covers thrown back to reveal silk sheets strewn with rose petals; the third the bouquet of flowers he'd sent Brian, minus one. But instead of the card he'd sent Brian, there was an envelope lying next to the vase. With his name on it. He went over and picked it up. Opened the card. Handwritten inside was a sonnet from Shakespeare.

_Never believe, though in my nature reign'd  
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,   
That it could so preposterously be stain'd,   
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;   
For nothing this wide universe I call,   
Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all._

And beneath that, _I love you._

Chest tight, he spoke with difficulty. "Brian. . ." Half-turned, smiled, then walked towards the fire, drawn by the flames. He could already feel the tears creeping into the corners of his eyes and knew that Brian would tease him about his allergies again but he didn't care. And he couldn't help it. Everything had been perfect. They hadn't argued once, hadn't even disagreed about what to get for dinner, hadn't made one false step all evening. And this, this was amazing.

"Hey. . ." said Brian, coming up behind him and embracing him. "What's this?"

Justin wiped at his eyes. "Nothing."

Turning the teen around, Brian wiped away his tears with the pad of his finger. Grinned. "Want some champagne?"

"No."

"Want to dance?" Justin shook his head. "Want to fool around?"

"Uh-huh."

Brian laughed and pushed him towards the bed. 

 

Being two halves of one whole, that's what people said it felt like, being in love, being with the person you were meant to be with; but it didn't feel like that to Justin. Instead, he never felt more himself than when he and Brian were together. It was hard to explain except that being with Brian made him feel complete, feel like the person he was supposed to be. He wondered if it was the same for Brian. Maybe so. Maybe that's why they fought so fiercely, because they were never more themselves, faults and all, than when they were together. And yet, it didn't feel wrong that they should argue and rage at one another, that was just part of them.

"Looks like the gerbil's working overtime," Brian commented as he removed his clothes, having seen the look of concentration on Justin's face.

"Yours retired," retorted Justin, helping Brian with his shirt, any excuse to be close to him, to touch his neck in passing, inhale his scent.

Catching Justin's hand, Brian kissed his fingers, then followed the fingers to the wrist, the arm, the shoulder, the neck, the chin, the lips. He pushed Justin onto the bed and unbuttoned his trousers, removed them, slipping them over his slender hips and thighs. Stripped him of the briefs as well. Lifted Justin's foot and kissed the sole, the ankle, calf, behind the knee, along the thigh. By the time Brian's breath tickled his groin, Justin had already begun moaning in anticipation.

But Brian drew away, stood and finished stripping. Justin lay waiting for him, gazing up at him. He loved looking at Brian. Especially when Brian knew he was watching him, knew that he was hungry for him. Every movement slowed to half its normal speed so that each play of muscle of visible; each syllable spoken was drawn out just a tad, to focus attention on the rosy lips. Brian took perverse pleasure in teasing Justin, making him wait. Heating things up and then pulling back, leaving Justin on the verge of exploding.

Sometimes he'd go down on Justin for what seemed like forever, slowly stoking the fire until Justin felt as if he were being consumed by flames and then Brian would let him slip from his lips, hard, wet, aching, and wait until the fire had died down a little. Before starting again.

Justin slid his hand around Brian's thigh and pulled him back onto the bed, down upon him, determined to get what he wanted. Wrapped his legs around Brian's waist and rose up a little so that their mouths met in mid-air. Fingers entwined in Brian's hair, the teen held him in place while he devoured Brian's lips. Neck aching after a while, he laid back, Brian following, lowering his head to re-establish contact, not wanting to be parted from his little boy.

He could feel Brian's nipples brushing against his chest as they kissed, the hard nubs scribbling secret words of desire upon his skin. So easy to reach up and pinch one, listen to Brian gasp, pinch it again, once more the gasp, then rub it to take away the sting.

Moving from Justin's neck to his chest, Brian kissed a trail across his collar bone, then down between his pecs. And once he was there it was simple enough to nibble on his nipple, lick flesh and metal alike, saliva making both shiny and wet. Simple enough to catch the ring between his teeth and pull. Not gently, one sharp tug that yanked a cry from Justin. Back arched abruptly, he slumped back to the bed, aware of the throbbing in his groin. Two-timing cock, didn't care what was happening up above as long as it was pleasured. And Brian was careful to give it just what it wanted. Slender fingers sneaking over Justin's belly, combing through his pubes, sliding around his dick, down his dick from the base to the tip. Brushing over the head. Softly. Tenderly. Seducing his cock. While the treacherous teeth continued to torture his nipple.

Floating on a haze of pleasure shot through with threads of sharp pain, Justin clenched his teeth to keep from begging Brian to either stop or continue. But his body betrayed him, blurting out the words, "Don't stop," in a harsh whisper.

Brian looked up, flicked his tongue over his lips. "Don't worry."

Thirteen sweaty minutes later Justin thought he was going mad. It didn't seem possible that Brian could get his tongue that far up his hole, that his dick could drip that much precum and still show no signs of stopping, that he could swallow that many screams.

Hole slick with lube, Justin felt Brian's fingers slip on his skin, spreading him open. He held onto his legs and concentrated on not yelling when he was entered. As always there was a little pinch; and then the incredible feeling of being stretched open wider than he'd have thought possible; and then the dizzying moment the head bumped over his prostate and everything blanked out; and then a moment to rest, savoring the fullness of Brian's cock in his ass, before his lover withdrew, leaving his hole yawning, yearning.

Later, much later, he was gripping the headboard in one hand, the other hand around his dick, and praying no one was in the room next to them or that the walls were soundproof because he was shouting at the top of his voice in time to Brian's thrusts, firm cock head colliding with his swollen sweet spot. Feeling like he was going to explode, Justin squeezed his cock, squeezed his eyelids shut, and grunted, forgetting where he was, who he was, flying apart with the force of his orgasm. Pearly cum arced over his belly, splashed his neck. Groaning, he continued to stroke his dick until the last thick drop ran over his thumb.

Brian withdrew entirely and Justin sighed and rolled over, spread his thighs, reached back and parted his cheeks offering his well-fucked hole. One hand supporting his weight, the other on his cock, Brian penetrated him once more, shuddering the moment he entered Justin's ass. Balls tight against the shaft, he pumped his lover's slick tunnel until he thought they would both burst into flames, the friction was so great between them. Sweat pouring off his body, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Justin's shoulder as the first spasm gripped him, spewing cum like lava. He dissolved in the flow, whispering, "Oh God," breath hot against his lover's back. 

 

Aching muscles welcomed a long soak in the tub. Bottle of champagne opened and half-empty, the two men lazed about with no plans beyond turning into prunes. It was only when most of the bubbles had dissolved and the water started turning cool that they gave any thought to getting up. Finally, with great regret, they dragged themselves out. Before Brian could dry off thoroughly, Justin grabbed his hand and pulled him into the livingroom, snatching the comforter from the bed as they passed by it.

They curled in front of the fire, half-wrapped in the comforter, too tired to do much more than kiss although both were aroused. Throwing a leg over Brian's hip, Justin nuzzled his lover's chest and closed his eyes, asleep before the last hint of blue pupil disappeared.

Brian stared at the fire over Justin's head, almost asleep, drowsy thoughts stumbling about his mind looking for a place to rest. He rubbed his thumb over the nape of the teen's neck; the hair there was very fine, like a child's, a little boy's. _My little boy_. . . he thought. _My rose. . . my all. . ._


	4. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Xavier exchange Christmas gifts; Brian gets an unexpected gift from the past; and Justin makes a decision.

In the week since his and Brian's Valentine Day celebration, Justin hadn't talked much to Xavier. Between class and work, Justin hardly had any time for Brian let alone his friends, the only difference being that Brian complained about the neglect and Xavier seemed to conspire with Justin to keep them from meeting by chance or design.

He'd asked Xavier to dance at his birthday party on impulse, a first small step towards mending the rift between them. Only it hadn't worked out that way. As they'd danced, he could see the hope in Xavier's eyes and it'd dismayed him. He'd only compounded the problem, and not done a damn thing as far as alleviating it. Of course, it was partly Xavier's fault because he persisted in seeing something that wasn't there. He didn't love Xavier, not like he loved Brian. He and Xavier were friends, he and Brian were committed to building a life together. As unbelievable as it would have seemed to him just one year ago, it had happened. And Xavier would just have to deal with it.

Only, whenever he saw Xavier, he was reminded of himself, pining for Brian during those long months before the bashing, when Brian refused to admit that he was anything more than a convenient fuck. Looking at Xavier, he could hear Brian say to him, _"I'm not your partner, I'm not your lover, I'm not even your friend. You're not anything to me."_ Except that Xavier meant a great deal to him. Not even with Daphne had he formed such an instant bonding. Not even with Brian. He'd wanted Brian, desired him, but he hadn't understood him, that had come later, much later after more bumps and bruises than he cared to remember. But he and Xavier had clicked right away. They fit; even coming from vastly different backgrounds, they'd still found a way to talk to one another because their vocabularies had been the same. Not in terms of the words they'd used but in terms of the ideas behind the words. He supposed he might have been bitter, having met Xavier when he did, after he and Brian had realized that where they each belonged was with the other, but he wasn't. There was room in his life for both of them. Or could be, if Xavier would only accept the fact that Brian came first and that Brian's place was inviolate.

The sheet of paper glowed brightly in the confines of the studio. The day had departed taking with it the natural light and he'd been too busy thinking to notice until now. Flipping a switch, he lit the room once more and wondered where Bledsoe was. His studio mate was religious about putting in his time each and every night. By his watch Bledsoe was late. He stared at the paper much as he had all afternoon, nothing coming to him. There was no point in staying. Better to go home, spend some time with Brian.

Having packed his stuff, he made sure the door was locked and started to head for the stairs when he paused, aware of someone watching him. Knew it was Xavier. Didn't realy want to launch into a discussion right at this moment but it was the first time in days Xavier had even made a token gesture. So he turned around, met his friend's eyes. "Hey."

"Hey, J."

 _J._ He called him J. Justin couldn't keep a smile from brightening his face. Xavier looked away, stepped back into the doorway of his studio. "Xavier, wait." Not caring that he hadn't been invited, Justin followed him, found Xavier sitting at a table in the room. "Xavier, please talk to me."

"And say what, J? What would make you happy? Make you smile again?" he asked although Justin knew him smiling like that had only hurt Xavier.

Instead of getting right into it, Justin replied, "You never said how your break was."

Xavier laughed, shook his head. "You are something else."

"I wanna know. Honest."

"I know," Xavier said softly. That was one of the things he loved about Justin, that he really, truly cared, that he'd listen to him talk about D.C. and ask questions and would be genuinely interested. "It was all right." Paused. "Made out like a bandit with the presents. My grandma really missed me," he said smiling.

"I still have your present." Justin watched his friend ponder that bit of information.

Eyes fixed on Justin, he said, "I still have yours."

That didn't surprise him, that Xavier had bought him something prior to the break, to their fallout. . . to their kiss. Which had occured here in this studio, him almost up against the door. He could still feel his friend's fingertips on his arm, still smell his cologne, something light that reminded him of citrus fruit. He'd instructed his friends not to give him anything for his birthday, sparing Xavier that trial but he'd always wondered if Xavier had gotten him something for Christmas. He should have known that he had. "We could have Christmas in February," Justin suggested.

Again Xavier laughed. "That's what I lo- -" He stopped. Scratched behind his ear. Said tightly, "I can't even say it."

"Xavier- -"

"It's better if I don't. Not even as a joke. Bri- -" Shit. He hadn't intended to say anything about Brian's visit.

"What about Brian?"

"He wouldn't like it." _Please, let him be satisfied._

Justin shrugged. "Probably. But then again, there are a lot of things he doesn't like. And the world goes on." They shared a chuckle, both of them fully aware of the fact that Brian, on a good day, was a hand full. "So you wanna?" After a moment, Xavier nodded. "Cool. When?"

"Tomorrow."

"'kay." Now was not the time to go any further with their reconcilliation. "Later."

"Later, J."

Pleased at these first steps they'd taken, Justin gave a little wave and left.

Justin gone, Xavier sat, completely drained of energy. It'd taken everything he had not to touch him. The dance they'd shared at the party had been okay because the music had been fast, they hadn't touched beyond Justin tapping his arm to ask him to dance in the first place. They'd parted after a while, once Justin had realized that Brian was no longer watching them. They'd both been aware of his scrutiny.

Looking up and seeing him enter his studio, Xavier had known why Brian was there. He'd only been surprised that it'd taken the man a week to finally come around. But once he had, he'd made it perfectly clear what he'd tolerate and what he wouldn't take at all. So what did that mean for him? He hadn't lied when he'd intimated that he couldn't stop loving Justin. It was beyond his control. But would he do as Brian had ordered and not push it? He was trying when everything in him screamed for him to go for it; when he'd seen the look in Justin's eyes and knew that his friend had feelings for him that had nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with intimate relations between lovers. If he pushed it, if he decided not to take no for an answer, he didn't think Justin would be able to resist him. But could he do it? He'd seen the joy in Justin's face when he'd spoken about him and Brian exchanging rings. Justin loved Brian. Was he right to try and come between them?

Xavier shook his head. He was afraid he was coming close to the point where, right or wrong, he wouldn't have a choice. 

 

Brian was boiling water for pasta when Justin got home. Throwing down his bag and placing his sketchpad on the table, he perched on one of the bar stools and watched his lover cook supper. Granted, Justin had made the sauce from scratch yesterday but for Brian to actually cook at all was amazing.

Dumping the pasta in the pot, Brian went around to the other side of the counter to receive a kiss. "Guess what?" he asked afterwards.

"What?" He didn't really care as long as Brian stayed close to him, close enough for his natural scent to displace Xavier's cologne.

"Gotta go to Birmingham for a site tour of Hyperion Biotechnics. Wanna come?"

Fuck yeah, was what he wanted to say but he couldn't. "I've got school."

"It's only for two days."

"I missed a couple weeks last semester because of the trial and I can't afford to miss even a couple days this semester."

A little disappointed, Brian understood. "Your loss."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

That soon? "They couldn't let you know before now?"

Brian slipped an arm across Justin's shoulders, pulled him closer. "Least we've got tonight."

"What time do you fly out?"

"Seven."

While the fusili cooked, Brian and his little boy worked towards storing up as many kisses as possible before the ad exec had to leave in the morning. By the time Brian pulled away to put on the sauce, both he and Justin were breathing heavily and looked a little wild-eyed. Justin held onto him for as long as he could, his fingers slipping from his sleeve only at the very last moment.

They dined by candlelight as they did every now and then when the mood struck them, the flames reflected in black china and clear goblets. Talked about their day- - Justin pointedly omitting any mention of Xavier- - and about their continuing quest to redecorate the loft, on which they didn't expend a great deal of thought or energy as the loft was quite fabulous as it was. All of the kids at the party had been suitably impressed by the apartment although a few wouldn't admit it, their eyes, nevertheless, betraying what they felt, what they were too cool to say verbally. They continued to plan for their trip, haggling over cities to visit in Italy, Brian wanting to spend a day in Milan that Justin thought could be better spent in Naples or Pompeii. Of course, Brian wanted to shop and Justin was more in favor of exploring the ruins of Pompeii or strolling through the palazzo in Naples. It was a discussion that would not end in a decision. Yet.

Working together to clean up the kitchen in record time, they were on their way to bed to fool around when the phone rang. "Is this fucking apartment bugged?" Brian grumbled. It always seemed as if someone called or dropped by whenever they wanted to fuck. Which wasn't true as they'd engaged in plenty of uninterrupted bouts of lovemaking. It was just that Brian hated to be interrupted ever when he had his mind on playing. "Yeah?" he asked, snatching the phone from the cradle.

"Bri?"

Lindsay, he mouthed to Justin. Sighed. It was probably going to be a long conversation. "What?"

"I need a favor."

When didn't she? "I'm waiting."

"I need a babysitter."

"When?"

"Saturday?" Although it was phrased as a question, he realized that it was, in actuality, a command.

"Whatever. For how long?"

"Until Sunday afternoon?"

"Fuck," he groaned. "All right." He couldn't very well refuse, Gus was his kid too.

"You sure?"

Justin was making signs at him. Telling him to be nice before he disappeared into the bedroom. "I assume you're bringing him over at the crack of fucking dawn."

"Afternoon." He could hear the humor in her voice. "So you and Justin can fuck the morning away. Thanks." She hung up.

Brian pretty much ran to the other room, hoping to catch Justin as he was undressing. Wasn't disappointed. Growled at the sight of the boy's pale buttocks as he bent over to slide off his pants. "Christ."

"You say something?" Justin asked, wiggling his butt slightly.

Not responding, Brian moved behind him and grabbed hold of his waist, held him in place as he rubbed against him.

Justin could feel Brian's cock through the thin material of his sweats. It was already stiffening, forcing its way in between his cheeks. _That's it,_ he thought as he felt the cloth-covered member nudge him.

Ten minutes later, Brian having rimmed him thoroughly, having thrust his tongue up inside him until Justin screamed his name helplessly, he gripped the edge of the bed's platform while his man fucked his spit-soaked hole. Head cushioned by and bumping against the mattress, Justin moaned as Brian stretched him open, drubbing his insides with hard regularity. With a grunt, Brian filled him with cum, then quickly withdrew and pushed him down onto the bed. Turned him over, Justin's legs still entangled in his pants, and roughly sucked him off. Cries echoing throughout the apartment, Justin came, his fingers gripping the back of Brian's head. "I love you," he whispered, fighting for each breath. "I love you. . ."

Brian licked his lips clean of cum, loving the taste of his lover's spunk. Kissed his little boy's cock and belly. "I know." 

 

The morning came too soon and Justin found himself, inexplicably, close to tears as he drove Brian to the airport. Because of heightened security, he didn't go inside but parked in the short-term parking lot and said his good-bye there in the Jeep.

Sensing that something was wrong, Brian held him tightly. Kissed him gently and often. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Justin sniffled and laughed. "Fuck. It's not like you're going to be gone long."

"I'll be back tomorrow night."

The teenager pulled away. "Go on. Before I make a complete fucking fool out of myself."

Brian pecked him again. "Too late." Opened the door and got his bag out of the back. "Love you," he said before closing the door.

"Be good," Justin replied. Waved as he walked away. Waiting until Brian had vanished across the street into the terminal, Justin started up the car and headed for the ticket booth. Tomorrow night seemed a lifetime away. 

 

As he waited for his flight to begin boarding, having held his temper during the innumerable security checks and delays, Brian thought about Justin's last words. _"Be good,"_ the boy had said and he wondered if he'd meant it seriously or if it was a joke.

They began boarding the first class passengers and he got his ticket out, waited his turn. The gate clerk checked his ticket and wished him a pleasant flight. It would be except for the hour layover in Atlanta, but he'd get to Birmingham before ten in the morning and have the entire day to get a feel for the company's operations. Probably have dinner with Kenneth with or without other key members of the corporation. And on Friday he'd give them his preliminary impressions of the organization and his first thoughts on a marketing strategy. But he wouldn't be able to make a real pitch to them for weeks afterwards while he refined his ideas and worked with the rest of his team.

 _Be good._ The words came to him again after he'd settled into his seat and refused any refreshments. Justin had gotten up and fixed him a breakfast fit for a king. He'd have to go out-of-town more often. Although, to be fair, Justin would probably get up and fix breakfast every morning except that they liked hanging with the guys at the diner.

He wondered what Justin had meant. Was Justin worried about him tricking during his trip? They hadn't discussed the possibility and he hadn't really thought about it. He hadn't been with anyone else since before the trial had begun. Hadn't wanted that to come out in the papers, that he'd been with some trick, not that anything could have tarnished his reputation any more than it had already been.

Did he miss it? Honestly, not really. Except for a tiny twinge that he felt sometime when he came across a totally hot guy, the kind of guy he would have done in a minute back in the old days. He'd seen a couple of guys like that in the past few weeks and, for an instant, he'd thought, _Who would know?_ and he'd answered himself, _You'd know. And if you knew, he'd know._

Settling down for the brief flight to Atlanta, Brian closed his eyes. Put the matter of tricking from his mind. He'd have to be on his toes today, would have to impress Kenneth and crew from the get go. No time for personal problems. Had to keep focused on work. . .

The flight attendant smiled as the man slept. When no one was looking, she slipped her phone number in his jacket pocket. You never knew when opportunity would knock again. 

 

Checking the wrapping on the present for the tenth time that morning, Justin slipped it into his backpack and hoped Xavier would like it. Hoped he didn't have it already. Hoped that, like Brian had for his birthday, he'd found something truly special for his friend. And then it came to him: he didn't know when Xavier's birthday was, or Rennie's for that matter. He'd have to ask.

He got to school a little early to find a parking space. Good thing he'd registered the Jeep at the beginning of the semester, thinking maybe he'd get the opportunity to drive it to class every now and then. He and Brian hadn't discussed him getting a car of his own and with Brian footing the bill for practically everything except college, he'd decided it wouldn't really do to ask him to get him a car too. He'd just have to wait until he could afford it. Which would be a long time on his pay from the diner.

Thoughts full of cars, he almost ran into Trevor Janson, his sculpture prof. Justin didn't think he'd ever be good at sculpting of any kind but he enjoyed the class. Trevor was a great teacher, always there to encourage you but never bullshitting you about talent you didn't have; he offered an honest assessment of each student's work.

"In that big of a hurry to get to class?" Trevor asked. To get to his class.

"Sorry, Professor Janson." Shook his head. "Thinking about other things."

"Like Brian?"

Justin had felt kinda helpless when Brian had told him how Trevor had tried to cruise him at Babylon during the time they weren't speaking to one another. Not that anything had come of it but still. . . Anyway, now, the point was moot. Chagrined at being caught out, Justin replied, "Kind of."

"How is he?"

"Okay." Justin wondered what he was getting at since it was obvious he was getting at something.

Hesitating a bit first, Trevor spoke. "Do you think he'd pose for a piece? It wouldn't take too much of his time."

"Brian? A model?" Justin frowned, not seeing it. "Whose?"

"Mine."

His first inclination was to say no, that Brian wouldn't do it but he realized his reaction was based more on jealousy than sure knowledge of his partner's feelings in the matter. _Get a grip,_ he told himself. What did he think would happen? That Trevor would seduce Brian while carving a statue of him? So he answered, "I don't know. You could ask him. He's out-of-town on business until tomorrow night. Why don't you call him? On Saturday. Afternoon," he added. Got out a sheet of paper and scribbed their number on it.

"Thanks."

"I have to warn you, though," Justin said, "he won't even sit still for me. I have to sketch him in his sleep." _And that's one opportunity you're never going to have._

There'd been a car and driver waiting for him at the airport to whisk him away to the complex on the edge of town. He was immediately impressed by the fragile steel and glass structure in the midst of perfectly manicured lawns. Instead of dominating its surroundings, the building harmonized with the grounds, complemented the landscaping. Nature and human engineering perfectly balanced.

He was met in the lobby not by some lower echelon flunky or secretary or administrative assistant, but by Harris himself. The man was as attractive as Brian had remembered from their second meeting in Pittsburgh when Kenneth had signed the contracts retaining the firm's services and providing Brian with a healthy bonus to boot.

Extending a hand, Harris welcomed him. "Brian. Good to see you again."

"Kenneth." They shook hands. "Impressive setup."

Pleased at the compliment, Kenneth grinned. "You haven't seen anything yet. Come on, I'll take you on the fifty cent tour."

From bottom to top, Kenneth guided Brian on a tour of the entire complex, making stops in R&D, the library, the mailroom, and two dozen other areas. Brian had gotten permission to take some photographs, as long as they weren't of anything sensitive, and he couldn't wait to download the pictures onto his workstation. By the time they got to Harris' office, Brian was impressed by both the man and his company. He seemed to know everyone and to know about every facet of the operation. It was if he'd done everything. That impression was confirmed as Kenneth explained to Brian that, "In the beginning, the mailroom was a corner of my office, Research and Development was the lab in the back, and the library was my desk computer; I was the Primary Researcher, librarian, secretary, and delivery boy." It was a little after one and they were just about to head to lunch in the commissary where Kenneth promised Brian a fantastic meal. "So? Any first impressions?"

"That all you really need is to give personal tours to potential clients. They'd be fools not to come on board," he said lightly, then in a more serious tone, "I was really struck by how balanced everything seemed. The technology's there, just not overwhelming. You never forget that what the company's about is people: the scientists, the secretaries, the managers, the clients. . ." He shook his head. "It's like applying Feng Shui on every level of the operation."

Kenneth smiled. "I knew I'd picked the right man." Stood and gestured to the door. "I don't know about you but I'm starving." 

 

After class Justin, Xavier, and Rennie headed down the street to a nearby burger joint for lunch, Rennie bitching about the smell of dead animal flesh ruining her appetite although she scarfed down her fries without too much trouble Justin noticed.

He debated giving Xavier his present with Rennie around, weighing the pros and cons. The pro being that with her there they wouldn't get into any trouble. The con being that they wouldn't be alone and he kind of wanted to be alone when he gave Xavier his present. Maybe Xavier would make the first move and he wouldn't have to decide.

But lunch ended and Xavier hadn't said a word or given him any signal. So they'd wait. 

 

The afternoon passed with all of them in their studios busy working on an oil painting project due Tuesday; and just as Justin was about to give up and go home for the day, Xavier appeared. "You doing anything for dinner?"

"Probably go home and make pasta or something."

"You mind some company?"

For an instant Justin nearly refused but he couldn't. Xavier was his friend. There was nothing wrong with the two of them having dinner together. They'd done it lots of times. "Rennie coming?"

"Nope. Feminist Art Club meeting. They're watching a bootleg Karen Finley video. Can't miss that for anything," he mocked. But, of course, he'd never say that to her face. She had absolutely no sense of humor when it came to feminist art.

So they piled into the Jeep and headed home, stopping at the deli first to pick up some Italian sausage. "It's Brian's favorite," Justin explained on the way there.

"I thought he was in Birmingham?"

"He'll be back tomorrow. We can have leftovers."

"Leftovers don't really seem to be his style," commented Xavier.

"He'll eat it if I fix it," Justin said proudly.

"You don't mind?"

"What? Leftovers?"

Xavier chose his words carefully. "Being the domestic one?"

And Justin laughed to let him know that he wasn't offended. Everybody assumed he was Brian's little woman. "We share chores. I cook cause I'm better at it. He cleans cause he's anal retentive. He hates messes. You should see him go after dust bunnies."

Xavier snickered. He couldn't imagine Brian cleaning. "I thought you had a cleaning lady?"

"She comes once a week, waxes the floors, makes sure the curtains are clean, does the laundry, that kind of stuff. But Brian won't let the place go in between visits. He freaks out if I don't use the hamper or if I get anything on the furniture."

"And everything's fucking white," said Xavier in disbelief. "Crazy."

"Yep," confirmed Justin. "He likes to take risks."

"Like being with you?"

Justin heard the challenge in Xavier's voice, chose to answer it. "That wasn't a risk, that was a sure thing." 

 

Xavier watched Justin layer the ziti, tomato sauce, sausage and cheese in a casserole before popping it into the oven. He'd been a good little helper, crushing the garlic and dicing the green and red peppers. He hadn't asked if Brian usually did those things, didn't want to know. It felt strange and a little painful fixing dinner with Justin, knowing that he was sitting where Brian probably sat, doing the things Brian probably did, and knowing that, at the end of the evening, he was going home and not climbing into bed with Justin.

Sipping a glass of red wine, the only one he'd allow himself as he had to drive Xavier home later, Justin led his friend over to the livingroom. Cut on the television and turned to Cartoon Network. The Power Puff Girls were on.

Incredulously, Xavier asked, "And Brian watches this with you?"

"Not all the time. But every now and then he comes home and says he's in the mood to watch Buttercup kick some butt."

"She would be his favorite."

"He bought me this- -" and then he stopped, face red he was sure. Just thinking about the Power Puff Girls backpack in Brian's toy chest made him blush. The things they'd done with that ring toss set. . .

"What?"

"Nothing." He covered his embarrassment by drinking some wine, then exclaimed, "Hey! I love this episode. It's where Buttercup falls in love with Ace from the Gangrene Gang."

"I've seen this one. Ace pretends to be nice so he and the Gangrene Gang can commit all these crimes. Totally perpetrating. I can't believe Buttercup fell for that tired act."

"She's only five. What does she know?" Justin asked in her defense. "The things I've done and I'm much older. . . You never know what you're capable of until you have to decide what to do."

 _Like me forcing you to admit that you do love me?_ Xavier asked himself. Then he put it out of his head for the moment, determined to enjoy his evening with Justin no matter what. 

At four thirty Kenneth dismissed the meeting and walked Brian out to the lobby to wait for the car to take him to his hotel. The day had gone well for all involved. Brian felt good about his relationship with Kenneth and his staff, which would only help as he worked on crafting an ad campaign for them.

"Can I interest you in dinner?" Kenneth asked him.

"Love it."

Checking his watch, Harris suggested that Brian meet the driver out in front of the hotel at seven. "Give me time to go home and change and you a chance to unwind a little. You mind if we eat at my house? I've got a fabulous cook."

Brian shrugged. "It's your call."

Only as he rode to the hotel he wondered if he hadn't made a mistake. There was no doubt Kenneth was interested in him. He hadn't made any secret of it the first time they'd met and their subsequent meetings only convinced him of the man's continuing interest. Maybe they'd be better off going out to eat. But he was kind of tired and it'd be a lot more relaxing to eat at Kenneth's house than dealing with a restaurant. He hoped. Fuck it, he was a big boy, he knew how to say no and to keep on saying no until he was safely back in Pitts.

With an eye to remaining virtuous, he decided not to wear his "Fuck me" black shirt as Justin called it and settled on a plain grey sweater and a pair of black trousers. Still, he had to admit, he looked hot. Just not available. Kind of. Rubbing his ring on his chest, he buffed it to a high gloss. Thought about calling Justin but the teen would probably still be in the studio working and he hated disturbing him when he was concentrating. Justin had been hustling lately and he'd given him a hard time about it despite having sworn to do the opposite. Well, he resolved that when he got back home he'd stop complaining. _Yeah, right._ Okay, he'd do better. That was all he could promise. And it was all Justin had ever asked of him. 

 

He couldn't help but be impressed as the driver pulled up to a beautiful home in an exclusive part of town. Japanese-inspired in style, the house, like the Hyperion building, was in perfect harmony with the landscaping. He wished he could have seen it in the daylight. Still, what he could see of it impressed him. He wouldn't mind having a place like that someday. Him and Justin. And Gus. And the kid Justin wanted to have with Daphne. Brian grinned. Jesus, a kid with Justin and Daphne's genes and propensity for talking. Poor Gus wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise. Of course, Gus would probably be the strong, silent type. Like him. Justin called it being uncommunicative. He was probably right. Neither he nor Lindsay were comfortable dealing with their feelings, getting things out in the open. They'd both been getting better about it but sometimes they retreated into silence as the only way to keep their self-control. And it was funny, because they each encouraged the other to open up more while completely ignoring their own tendency to lock down on their emotions.

As he had at the complex, Kenneth met him at the door, leading him into the depths of the house. "There's a formal dining room but I figured we could probably make do with the sunroom out back."

Brian followed silently, bolstering his faltering resolve. Kenneth looked fabulous, radiating a quiet strength that was damned attractive. Without ever seeing his bank account, you knew he was a powerful man. And power was something of an aphrodisiac for Brian. He recognized that about himself and went on standby alert. This was going to be a long evening. 

 

Fortunately, irregardless of whatever ulterior motives drove Kenneth, the man proved to be the perfect host. Attentive not smothering, proud of his home but not boisterous, and forceful in stating his opinions without ever being overbearing. Smart. Knowledgeable about business outside his own field, up on current events, well-versed in cultural matters, well-traveled and willing to indulge Brian's questions once Brian had explained that he and Justin were planning a trip to Europe in the late summer. "You'll love it," he told Brian. "No matter where you go. There's something about every city, every town that makes it worth visiting. You won't be disappointed."

Yet Brian detected a hint of disappointment in Kenneth's tone, as if he'd finally realized that Brian was part of a partnership. After that moment he seemed a little subdued. Taking that as his cue, Brian suggested that he go. "I should be getting back to the hotel."

Dark brown eyes fixed on Brian's face, Harris said, "You don't have to."

The invitation was on the table, no mistake about it. All he had to do was accept it. He'd caught enough glimpses of the man's package to know that he wouldn't be disappointed. But then there was Justin. . . Standing, Brian decided, "I think I do." But Kenneth stood too and moved closer to him. Took hold of his elbow. He felt like a teenager on a first date, not quite sure where anything went or how to react. All he knew was that his heart was racing and he was about two seconds away from turning and kissing the man. With effort, he started to object, "I- -"

"I know you're attracted to me."

He couldn't deny it. Couldn't speak to deny it, couldn't gather the wits to do so.

"And you know how I feel about you. What's one night?"

Taking a couple deep breaths, he cleared his head. "You're a client."

"So?"

Brian laughed. "I've learned the hard way not to mix business and pleasure."

"That the only thing?"

He held up his hand, displaying his commitment band. "He's waiting at home for me." And just thinking about Justin sitting up in bed reading his Lucian Freud book made him feel stronger.

"A faithful man. Rare these days." Kenneth smiled. Moved away from him. "At least stay for dessert."

And give Harris another opportunity to wear him down? No. "I couldn't eat another bite."

Finally, Kenneth seemed to accept defeat. "All right. Wait here and I'll call the driver," he said and left to do so in private.

Brian closed his eyes. Shit. He couldn't wait to get home. _Traveling was just too damn dangerous these days._

They'd gotten totally silly on the wine, Xavier not used to having it and Justin breaking his own quota and having a couple glasses. Before dinner was over they were laughing at everything: television, their own alcohol-induced jokes, the napkins. . . Risking the wrath of Brian, they'd eaten in front of the television, plates of pasta balanced precariously on their laps, goblets of wine between them on the coffee table. More than once their fingers had brushed as they both reached for another sip. Faces flushed from the wine, from the close proximity to one another, they doused their growing arousal with yet more Cabernet. Finally, dinner consumed, they stumbled to the kitchen with their plates and the empty wine glasses and realized they were more than a little unsteady on their feet.

 _Fuck_ , thought Justin. _Why the fuck did I open that wine?_ Carefully, he avoided looking at Xavier.

His guest was in just as tight a spot. Xavier was well-aware of the fact that his resistence was low, lowered, in fact, by the wine, and he was praying for an opening, any opening, to take advantage of their mutual intoxication. And, at the same time, he wanted to walk out of the apartment having done the right thing, having resisted temptation once again.

Getting them out of the confining kitchen was the first order of business. Taking Xavier's plate and glass from him, Justin quickly loaded the dishwasher and grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, grateful for the momentary blast of cold air. He waved the bottles in the air, indicated a return to the living room. But not the two armchairs by the TV, the sofa. As he sat down, it hit him. Idiot. Too late now to change without looking a little obvious. But Xavier seemed to have come to the same conclusion, that a little distance would be good, and he sat a ways away. Reached for the bottle of water and knocked back a good third of it. Justin watched the muscles in his throat move as he swallowed. A trickle of water ran down his chin, down his neck. _Fuck._ It was time for the presents. Exchange the presents and get Xavier the hell out of there. That was the plan.

He got up and grabbed his backpack. Returned to the sofa. Xavier's bag was at his end of the couch. Justin took out the gift he'd bought his friend and held it in his lap. Xavier did the same. Smiling awkwardly, he offered the package. Xavier took it, handed him a wrapped box, a strained smile on his face as well. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," said Xavier. "Go on, open it."

"You too."

They both got busy removing the paper, Justin in his normal fastidious fashion, Xavier more like Brian, tearing the wrapping off in one or two motions.

"J. . ." Xavier seemed amazed by his gift.

He'd gotten him a book about Leonardo Drew, one of Xavier's favorite artists. "You like it?"

"I never thought. . ." He smiled ruefully. "I never thought about looking for a book about him. I figured who'd care about this young Black guy? This young Black artist?"

"You do." He paused. "One day there'll be books written about you. You'll see." He still hadn't finished opening his gift. He'd gotten the paper off but the present itself was inside a box. Slowly, he opened it. Dug through the tissue paper and found it. Before he even got it out, he knew what it was.

One of Xavier's pieces. Xavier had made this for him.

"It's my interpretation of Ogun. A Yoruba orisha. He's the god of creativity but he's also a warrior. A fighter." Xavier looked intently at Justin, waiting until the teen returned the gaze. "Like you."

The piece didn't resemble a person in the least bit but it gave the impression of great strength and beauty: dark metal shot through with golden wire, decorated with green and black beads, and mounted on a wooden base. As he had when Brian had given him his birthday present, Justin could feel the tears welling up inside him. To cover his response, he stood. "I should find a really special place for this." Unfortunately, he headed for the bedroom. Even more disasterously, Xavier followed him. He half-turned in the doorway, trapped in inaction.

Softly, Xavier spoke, "Tell me you don't want me and I'll go."

Justin's heart was beating so fast he didn't think he could speak and if he did speak, what would he say? Lie and tell Xavier he didn't feel anything for him, didn't want him so badly right now that he could barely form any kind of rational thought? Or tell him that, tell him the truth? He was damned either way. Holding his present in his hands, he cast about for an answer.

And there it was. Bright against the dark metal of the piece. His ring. The ring Brian had given him, the ring he'd taken in good faith, promising to be faithful forever. Feeling a tear roll down his cheek, he answered, "I want you to go."

But Xavier wouldn't accept that answer, not this time. He pulled Justin around. "I said tell me you don't want me and I'll go."

"Don't make me say- -"

"I want to hear you say it." Xavier's eyes flashed. "Say it!"

"I don't want you!" Justin shouted, pulling away.

For the space of a half-dozen heartbeats they stood staring at one another. Finally Xavier said, "I never thought you'd lie to me," and he walked away from Justin, grabbed his bag.

"Xavier- -"

He turned, tears blinding him, and jabbed a finger at Justin. "Fuck you."

The door slammed shut as Xavier fled the apartment. Justin sat down on the steps and gave over to the tears that had begun to fall. What had he done?

The phone rang. It'd be Brian, saying goodnight, being a good partner, being everything that he wanted him to be. So why wasn't it enough? Wiping his face, he got up, walked over to the computer desk in the other room. He stood over the phone, not picking it up. Waiting for the machine to come on.

_"Hey, baby. Just got back from dinner. I guess you're in the studio. I'm beat so I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow night. Six thirty, okay? I hope you get this before too late. You need to rest more. Later. Love you."_

"I love you too," he whispered. Put the statue of Ogun on the desk and went to bed.

It hadn't been the homecoming he'd expected. Justin had seemed a little subdued but when he'd asked him why, the teenager had avoided the issue, kissing him and telling him he was glad that he was home. Except that he hadn't smiled as brightly, hadn't jumped in Brian's arms the way he'd thought about all during his flight back to Pittsburgh. He'd counted on it, on meeting Justin outside the terminal and having the teenager leap into his arms. As he pulled up the elevator door, he guessed it had been a little silly to imagine Justin doing that. But it would have been something if he had. It would have been perfect. He supposed he'd gotten used to things being relatively perfect between them. Newlywed delusion. Eventually, the honeymoon was over and you had to face real life again, with all of its imperfections.

Carrying his bag to the bedroom, he decided to unpack tomorrow. Right now all he wanted was to eat and to make love to his little boy and to curl up in his own bed, sleep in tomorrow. He put down his suit bag and took his briefcase back to the livingroom to set by the desk. Noticed something different. "What's this?"

Justin had taken out the pasta from the night before and was putting it in the oven. Without seeing what Brian was talking about he knew what he was referring to. "Xavier made it for me. For Christmas."

"It's amazing." _He must really love you,_ he thought. He bought him Duraflame logs and books about artists and Xavier fuckin' made him art. Christ, he did not need this, not right now, not after Birmingham and feeling vulnerable. . . Chuckled a little. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was being melodramatic. Justin didn't expect him to be anything he wasn't. Only. . . Only it'd be a lot easier to accept if Justin hadn't been in a slight funk, if he hadn't gotten the impression that something more than a simple exchange of gifts had occured. How could he even begin to ask? And what if Justin told him more than he wanted to know? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You got a package," Justin told him as he came over from the kitchen, an express mail box in his hands. Handed it over. "From Tommy Pearce."

The Living Ken Doll. Cam's ex. What the fuck would he be sending him? He took the package, it looked like the kind of box you sent a video in. That didn't make any sense. He and _Cam- - Shit._ His hands shook. He knew what was in the box. Not tonight, not feeling the way he did, not now. Why the fuck did it have to come tonight?

"Brian?"

He sat on the arm of the sofa. Swallowed, then swallowed again before speaking. "It's a video we made. With one of those old camcorders, back when people still called them video camera recorders. Big as hell, weighed a fuckin' ton." He snickered. "I'd forgotten all about it." Shook his head. "I would have thought he'd have ripped it to shreds."

Thinking that it was a precursor to the two videos he and Brian had made in the privacy of the loft, Justin asked, "A sex video?"

"No. We went to New York. For the weekend." Smiled softly. "It was one of the best times we ever had together." Slowly, he opened the package and, sure enough, it was a video. The video. Labeled, "NY Trip". No letter of explaination, no reason, no rationale. Tommy'd just dumped it in his lap, an unexpected gift.

"You gonna watch it?"

"I was there." He carried the video to the television, put it with the others underneath in the cabinet. As he headed back towards the kitchen Justin met him and guided him to the bedroom. "What about dinner?"

"Fuck it."

It was the first time they'd been apart for even a night since from before the trial and Justin was amazed at how much he'd missed Brian. And maybe part of it was the mess he'd created with Xavier but most of it was the man himself and how much he loved touching him and loved lying next to him. Naked, arms and legs entwined, they kissed for what seemed like forever. If he never had to move from this spot again, it'd be fine with him. Fuck the world outside their room, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but this, but being in Brian's arms, feeling Brian's lips on his neck, his chest, his face, kissing Brian's neck, chest, and face. "I love you," he said over and over again as if he could imprint the words on Brian's skin so that they'd never forget.

Brian pulled back a little. "Baby?" He'd heard the desperation in Justin's voice and it worried him a little.

But Justin drew him in for another kiss. "I missed you."

"I missed you."

"Make love to me."

"I have been," he said and Justin smiled, remembering Brian saying that the first time they made love after he left the hospital.

Then he remembered what he'd told Brian, that he'd never leave him, even if he told him to and Brian had cried, overcome by Justin's love for him. By his devotion. "Don't let me go," he told Brian, face buried in his shoulder.

"I won't, baby," and that's when Brian knew that something had happened, something that had scared Justin bad, and he wanted to jump from the bed and go find Xavier and beat the shit out of him, and he wanted to stay in bed and hold Justin so tight that the teen wouldn't be able to leave, and he knew that he couldn't do either. He could only love him the best way he knew how. 

 

Justin had fallen asleep in his arms and he'd been loathe to disturb him, letting him sink deeper and deeper into his dreams before sliding from beneath him. He made a bee line for the television, squatting to put in the videotape Tommy had sent him. Why would Cam have kept it all those years? Taking a seat, he watched a much younger version of himself laugh with his young lover, both of them so confident in love, in the strength of something so fragile. Cam laughing as he said, "This is Brian and Cam, on our way to New York City!" Yelled, "Whoo hoo!" Kissed Brian hard. They'd balanced the camera on the kitchen counter in the house Cam would soon be leaving, both of them having relocated to Pittsburgh, Cam and Frank having found a new house there.

A rough cut, then Cam driving while Brian held the camera. "We're on the Pennsylvania Turnpike which is the most boring piece of shit road there is."

Heard himself say, "Do something."

"Do what?" Cam had asked and Brian had told him, "Sing something."

So Cam had sung. _"I'm worse at what I do best/ And for this gift I feel blessed/ Our little group has always been/ And always will until the end/ Hello, hello, hello, how low/ Hello, hello, hello, how low/ Hello, hello, hello, how low/ Hello, hello, hello/ With the lights out it's less dangerous/ Here we are now, entertain us/ I feel stupid and contagious/ Here we are now, entertain us/ A mulatto, an albino/ A mosquito, my libido/ Yeah. . ."_ nearly fucking wrecking the car with his head bobs, slapping the steering wheel, and Brian had loved him so much he could still see it in the way the camera lingered over Cam's hands or closed in on his incredible eyes. He closed his own for a moment and sobbed against his fist. Oh God. . .

Justin watched him through the blinds of the bedroom walls. Watched him rewatching his life. With his first love. Brian would always have that, a first love that wasn't him. He wouldn't. Brian was _his_ first love. His only love. He thought of the piece of sculpture on the computer desk. Then put it out of his mind and turned over, away from the flickering shadows of the past.

Sitting in the dark, the light from the television illuminating his face, Brian wept and laughed silently as he and Cam tore through New York City.

 _And I forget  
Just why I taste   
Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile   
I found it hard   
It was hard to find   
Oh well, whatever, nevermind_

Before the elevator came to a halt, he could hear Gus calling for him. Maybe he wouldn't be the strong and silent type. "Hey, Sonny Boy," he said as the baby ran to him and he picked him up.

"Dada." The baby gave him a huge kiss, gripping his hair with both hands. Future flirt, big time. "Hey, Dada."

Linday kissed him as well. "You're a sweetheart. Mel and I need some Mommies-only time."

"You owe me," he told her as she lugged Gus' stuff into the apartment while he got the toddler's coat and shoes off.

"Where's Justin?"

"Where Pooh!" Gus reminded her.

"Studio. Working." Pause. "So he says." The baby broke free of him and took Beh on a wobbly tour of the loft.

"Problems?"

He rubbed his eyes. "I'm just tired." God, he shouldn't have even brought it up but he needed to talk to someone. "It's been a rough couple days. I went to Birmingham and the CEO of the fuckin' corporation invites me for a sleepover and I don't mean the kind where you tell ghost stories all night; and then I come home, and there's a goddamn videotape from Cam waiting for me."

"Of what?"

"The trip to New York."

Her eyes widened with comprehension. She remembered that trip, how happy they had been planning it, how everything had seemed so perfect and she could imagine how much it'd hurt him to watch it again with Cam gone. "Bri. . . "

"And to top it all off," he was blinking rapidly now, "just to make sure I feel good and fucked, there's something going. . . " and he couldn't say it. Waited a moment. "There's something going on between Justin and Xavier."

"Brian. . . They're just friends."

He pointed to the sculpture on the desk. "Xavier made that for his friend for Christmas."

Despite herself, she was impressed. "It's beautiful." Still, she couldn't feed his paranoia knowing how apt he was to latch onto the worse case scenario and run with it. "But it doesn't- -"

"Something happened, Lindz. I'm not stupid. I could feel it." _Feel it in the way we made love, in the way he held me, in desperation._ "You have to trust him, Brian."

"I do." He sniffled. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"About what?"

"That it would be so hard?"

Lindsay smiled softly. "Would you have listened?" He shook his head. "Justin loves you. That's all that matters."

"Yeah," he agreed, even though it wasn't, and he didn't believe for a minute that it was. He agreed because he had no other choice, because to admit out loud that he felt otherwise seemed like a betrayal to him.

"You'll be all right here with Gus?"

Brian located the baby on the floor beneath the chaise lounge, babbling to Beh. "We'll be fine." 

 

Words, just words. How easily it seemed to him to use words to hide, to conceal, to lie. Even to yourself. Even if you didn't say them out loud. Right now he was pushing Gus around on his fire truck, Beh clutched in his hands, pretending he didn't know that Justin was with Xavier; pretending that everything was all right; pretending that he didn't want to curl up in bed, the baby in his arms, and cry, when it was all he wanted to do. Pretending to be strong for his son, who looked to his Dada to show him how to deal with the world, even if Gus didn't know it; pretending to be strong for himself, because once he gave in to the fear, to the pain, he didn't know what comfort he'd be able to find outside of a bottle, or a vial. Or a trick. A tear fell and he wiped it away without pausing. But Gus turned and looked up at him with those eyes that were identical to his own, except that Gus' were bright with wonder at the vastness of the world, at the limitless possibilities, and his own, he knew, were not. Reaching for his daddy, Gus said, "Dada. Hug," so he picked up baby and bear (cause a hug for Gus meant a hug for the both of them) and he hugged them, holding onto them, to this gift of light and love. 

 

He'd left home in a hurry, barely pausing to tell Brian where he was going, not wanting to see the hurt look in his lover's eyes. Brian wasn't a fool. He knew something was wrong, he just didn't know what. But he suspected, of that Justin was certain. He suspected and was too afraid to confront the younger man about it. Justin was counting on that because he was, himself, afraid of facing the truth. Or a truth. That was the problem, there were too many truths; how to say which was the most important one? Which one had the most weight?

Now that he was at the Institute, he didn't know what to do. He needed to see Xavier, try to patch things up with him but he was afraid. Xavier was furious with him, disappointed in him. And he was. . . confused, angry. Incredibly angry that this had to happen now, when everything was perfect between him and Brian, when they'd finally figured things out and made a commitment to one another, now. . . What? he asked himself. Now what? He couldn't say. Not even to himself. But he would have to say it soon because he knew Xavier wouldn't accept anything less anymore than the elusive truth.

He didn't even knock, just pushed through the door to Xavier's studio. Found his friend bent over some drawings on the table. "Hey."

"Go away," Xavier said without looking around at him.

"Please. Xavier- -"

Still not looking. "Just go. I don't want this."

"I'm sorry."

He turned. Livid. "I don't want your fuckin' pity." So like Brian in that. "You don't want me, fine; you don't love me, fine; just stay the fuck away from me then. Because I do love you, I want you. . . and I can't keep doing this, J."

That Xavier could still call him J hurt more than anything. Made him feel ashamed because Xavier was strong enough to admit the truth, no matter how much it hurt. He paused for a moment. "You were right," he said softly, eyes lowered. "I did lie to you that night." Another pause while he summoned the strength to say it. "I do love you. I do want you." And he waited for the world to fall apart. And it didn't. He just felt as if he had.

"J. . ."

"But I can't have you." The words scraped his throat raw. "I can't leave him, Xavier. I love him too much." That was the truth that he held closest to his heart. "And I'm sorry." A tear crawled down his cheek. "I'm sorry because I should never have let this happen."

"How you gone stop it?" Xavier asked, gentler than Justin would have imagined possible.

"I couldn't. And I don't know what to do."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay." Xavier's reasonable tone of voice was driving him crazy when he felt so desperate. "What are we gonna do?"

And Xavier went to him and held his face in his hands. "We do nothing. I understand that you love him. And I can handle that. I don't want to hurt you, J. I just needed to know that you cared, that you felt something for me." He stroked Justin's cheek, tears wetting his fingers. "Now that I know, I can deal with not having you."

"How?" asked Justin because he didn't know, truthfully, how he was going to walk out of here.

"I'm from the projects: we used to wanting things we can't have." And he laughed, as did Justin, surprised that they could find anything funny in either situation. "I want you to be happy, J, that's all."

But it wasn't. "I want you to be happy too."

The catch. He studied Justin's eyes, so beautiful and blue, like a clear sky most days, cloudy now with grief and fear. "I will be," he said. "I promise." He had to do this for Justin, had to be strong despite the fact that his heart was breaking, that tears streaked his face as well; he had to make things right. _"It just wasn't our time, you know?"_ So simple to say but inside, _Why? Why give me what I want most in the world and put it just out of reach?_ "But we can be friends, right?"

"And I don't know what to do."

Attempting a smile, Justin agreed. "Right." Blinked and a last tear rolled down his face. "Xavier?"

"Yeah?"

He cupped the back of Xavier's head and drew him closer. Kissed him without hesitation, without grief, just taking pleasure in the feel of the other teen's lips against his. And when Xavier tighten his arms around him, he molded himself against his friend's body and they kissed as they never had before and never would again. That was understood. As Xavier's lips brushed down his neck and across his throat, he sighed. It would be so easy to just. . . No. He parted from Xavier. Gave him a last lingering kiss upon the lips. "Thank you," he whispered and, turning, left the room.

Xavier watched him go. Picked up a hammer and held it so tight the tendons in his arm stood out. He held it until his heart had stopped pounding, until the veins in his forehead ceased drumming, and he could see again. Putting the hammer down, he wiped his face in his shirt. Turned once more to his sketch and stared at it, seeing nothing that was drawn on the paper, only the afterimage of a bright smile and blond hair slowly fading from sight. 

 

The first thing he heard as he came through the door was Gus shouting, "Pooh!" but not in greeting, he and Brian were watching the video of their dive in the Caribbean.

"Who's that, Gus?" asked Brian, baby and Beh on his lap.

"Pooh!"

And Brian corrected him. "Justin. Say, 'Justin,' Gus."

"No!" Gus said firmly. That was his second favorite word, after Dada. "Pooh. Pooh, Dada."

Brian laughed. Strong, not so silent, and stubborn. God help all of them when Gus got older. Then he noticed Justin by the door. "Hey."

"Hey." Justin paused.

"Pooh!"

Going over to them, Justin took the toddler from his daddy, kissing Brian in passing. "What you doing?" he asked Gus.

He pointed to the screen. "Dada. Pooh."

"Yeah, that's Pooh and Dada," he said, giving up on trying to make Gus say Justin, "in the Bahamas."

Gus pointed again. "What dat?"

"Fish," Justin told him. The toddler stared at him. "Fish," Justin said slowly.

"Fi."

"Fish," Justin repeated, emphasizing the 'sh.'

"Fis."

Not wanting to but needing to, Brian asked, "Are we okay?"

Without looking away from the television, Justin replied, "Yeah, we're okay."

"You sure? Cause I don't want to find out six weeks from now that we're not."

"We're better than okay. We're fabulous," Justin announced. And they were. They would be. They deserved it.

Brian smirked. "Of course, we are. We're fuckin' fabulous." He slid to the floor and sat at Justin's feet, his arm draped over the teen's legs. Almost immediately Gus grabbed his hair. "Shit, Gus! That's attached to my scalp."

Gus let go, face screwed up to either yell or cry.

"Poor baby," cooed Justin stroking Brian's hair and Gus giggled. Brian hadn't scared him, just startled him. Gus in his arms, Brian at his feet, Justin took a deep breath and released it.

Together, they watched the bright fish swim lazily across the screen. 

 

"Smells Like Teen Spirit," by K. Colbain and Nirvana, EMI Virgin Songs Inc., BMI, 1991.


	5. Vee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian, Justin, and Xavier deal with the realities of a difficult situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Please note: Normally Spring Break wouldn't come so early but in order to fit everything in, I had to play with the schedule. Also note, the events in the story would realistically occur over a much longer period of time but have been compressed to fit into the timeline for the entire Fantasy Season Three series._
> 
> **This chapter is novel length…equivalent to 250-300 pages.

Sunday mornings in bed were the best. Lying on top of Brian, Justin imagined that he was stretched out on a beach in Greece, Mediterranean sun caressing his naked body, toes trailing in the surf, the nibble of a wave causing him to shiver deliciously.

Brian's fingers tiptoed down his spine to the bubbling sound of laughter.

"Do you think we'll ever get tired of having sex?" Justin asked as Brian cupped his buttock, thumb rubbing the crevice of his ass.

Brian raised a brow, then together they answered, "No," and laughed so hard Justin almost spilled from his perch. But he held on, gripping the larger man with thighs and arms the way a shipwrecked sailor might clutch a lifeboat. Then, like a raft rising and falling upon the swells of a wave, Brian began to undulate beneath him. 

 

The shower pelted their skin sluicing away the worst of the exhaustion. For the longest time they didn't wash at all, just stood, or rather slumped against the walls of the shower, and let the water massage their tired muscles. Finally Brian grabbed the soap and began running it all over his baby's skin, leaving a trail. "Mmmm. . ." Justin breathed as Brian gave him a thorough washing, even cleaning his hole, gently rotating the bar of soap against the tender ring of muscle until its folds were white again, this time with suds instead of cum. Easing a finger inside him, Brian said, "I think it's time for a deep cleansing," and Justin moaned.

They didn't do this often as the metal attachment and the water had the potential to irritate the lining of his bowels but sometimes, especially after he'd been stretched wide open, he liked to feel the sleek, cool head slide into him, and the water actually soothed him after a long, hard fuck like this morning.

Brian screwed the phallic-shaped attachment onto the hose and adjusted the temperature of the water. Hands braced against the wall, eyes closed, Justin waited. Spreading him open, Brian sprayed his rosy pucker with lukewarm water, testing his response. "Perfect," the boy said, voice already husky. Then the tip touched him and he jumped a little.

"Hurt?"

"Uh-uh." The water buffeted his hole without entering him, ran down his inner thighs.

"Ready?"

He nodded, too excited to speak. This was going to be so- - "Oh!" The shower head parted the folds of his asshole and slipped inside with no trouble at all, filling him with warm water. Almost immediately Brian removed the head and let the water run out. Justin felt slick down there, flushed. Brian pushed the slender wand back inside him, twisting it slightly as he buried it almost to the base. Tongue peeking from between his lips, Justin fought back a cry, then surrendered. "Oh God!" he hissed and the attachment slid free but the water stayed inside him. Brian had pressed his finger over his hole, then into his hole, plugging him up. He kissed his shoulders while Justin shuddered and jerked. At last, before Justin's stomach began to cramp, he released the floodgates. Warm water flowed over Brian's fingers like piss, turning them both on immensely. They'd yet to experiment with water sports but neither one of them believed it was too far off. Some day one of them would suggest it and the other would agree and Justin only wondered who'd be straddling whom. First.

His thoughts were interrupted by the steel cylinder entering him again and this time before Brian withdrew he whispered, "Hold it."

Just two words but they sent chills down Justin's spine. As the tip slipped free of him, he squeezed his cheeks together, keeping the water inside him. Letting the hose swing free, Brian placed both hands on his ass and stroked his plump buttocks. Kissed his neck and jaw. "Baby. . ." He took hold of his cock, which was stiffening, and rubbed it over Justin's ass. Rubbed it along the divide, daring Justin to respond, to unclench his muscles and release the water before he was given permission. Justin endured it, catching his breath a couple times when he almost let go. Then Brian reached around for his cock.

"No!"

"You don't want me to touch your cock?"

"No."

So instead he stroked the boy's nipples, his belly, his back and sides. And talked. "Slide my fingers up and down your hard dick, over that big vein that runs along the side."

Justin felt his dick twitch. It was rising up between his legs, had been every since Brian had first opened him up with that shower head.

"Every time I suck you off, I can feel it pulse inside my mouth. I wish I were blowing you right now. Like this morning when I had you on your back screaming- -"

Justin trembled, stomach muscles rippling. "Stop it."

" _'Don't stop.'_ " Brushing his lips over Justin's back, Brian whispered, "Sucking you dry. . . "

A shiver went all through Justin. "I can't hold it."

Brian stood to the side of him and reached over, hands on his ass. "Let it go." A spurt escaped. "Push it, baby," he ordered, moving his hands on Justin's ass to control the direction of the flow. A stronger stream struck the glass wall of the shower as if Justin were pissing, only this time he was using his hole instead of his cock. Brian placed a hand in its path, water splashing his fingers. "Fuck," he uttered in awe, voice colored by lust. Justin pushed and pushed again, the stream ebbing and flowing until the last trickle wet his thighs and pooled at his feet.

Pulling on his cock, Brian jerked off, spraying Justin's ass with cum. Then, fingers sticky with his own spunk, he brought Justin off, the teen leaning back against him and moaning loudly as Brian wrung him dry, jizz sliding to the floor of the shower to run down the drain. 

 

Later, over breakfast, Brian asked, "Where'd you get this recipe from?" They were eating a frittata made with sausage and Pecorino Romano cheese.

"Martha Stewart dot com."

The older man snickered. "You're too much, you know that?"

"Too much to handle? Maybe you should get some help," Justin suggested.

"Didn't need any help this morning," Brian reminded him and Justin blushed. They hadn't gotten any more notes from the building superintendant about his yelling, not because he'd stopped but because the man had probably given up. He tried to hold it back every time and every time he ended up hoarse from screaming. It didn't matter if Brian was fucking him, sucking him, or getting fucked, when Justin neared his climax, he began to yell. Sometimes Brian would clamp a hand over his mouth or kiss him to silence the sound and other times the man seemed to take pride in hearing him scream his name. And it was true. He loved hearing Justin say his name, starting with a whisper, "Brian," building in volume and strength, "Brian, Brian," until the sound filled the apartment, "Brian!" The ad exec grinned. "I think I might have actually worn you out."

But Justin shook his head. "No way." Smiled. "But you'll have plenty of opportunities during Spring Break. A whole week at home."

"You've got a whole week at home," Brian reminded him. "I've got to work."

"You could take one day off, couldn't you? Maybe Friday. We'd have a three day weekend, at least."

Not promising anything, Brian said, "I'll see." Paused. "You sure you don't want to go anywhere?"

"Without you?" Brian nodded. "How would that be fun?"

He shrugged. "Go to the beach, hang out, party. That's what teenagers do, I'm told."

"Not this one." Justin got up and came and sat on Brian's lap. "This one has an old man to take care of and if he leaves him for a week, someone else'll be taking care of him when he gets back and he doesn't want that." He kissed Brian on the lips, tasting coffee and fennel from the sausage.

 

 

The week had passed without incident, most people busy trying to turn in last minute work before the break. He hadn't been spending much time with Xavier and Rennie beyond class and the occasional lunch as they'd all had projects to complete. Finally, on Friday, he realized that Xavier wasn't around. He went after his last class to peek in his friend's studio but someone had put up a piece of black construction paper over the window. Lots of people did that, for the privacy but Xavier and his studio partner hadn't seemed to care. He knocked but there was no answer. He wondered if Rennie was around and knew what was up.

She wasn't going home she'd told them cause she was sick of the beach having grown up in Del Mar, two minutes walking distance from the shore. She was going to stay in Pitts and take a four-day trip to New York with some of the women from her Feminist Art Club group.

He found her in her studio cleaning some brushes. "You seen Xavier?"

"He's gone," she said tightly.

Confused, Justin asked, "Without saying good-bye? Did he say when he was coming back?" Her attitude he didn't understand, but that was Rennie for you. Hot one moment and cold the next.

Rennie glared at him. "Asshole, he's gone. Okay? Gone, as in not coming back? Have a good life, hope to never see you again?"

"Gone?" he repeated stupidly. And he started to ask why but he knew why. Hence her attitude. Hence Xavier's secrecy about leaving. Without saying anything else, he turned to go but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Justin, I'm sorry. I know it's not your fault." She sat on a stool and brushed back her hair. It was already streaked with paint from where she'd pushed it back without paying any attention to what was on her fingers. "He just told me Wednesday."

"Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you try to stop him?" He was fighting to remain calm, not to yell at her, not to kick something.

"I did try to stop him. But it's like standing in the path of a tornado, you know?"

Did he. God, that sounded like Brian. He still remembered the time he'd thought Brian was going to move to New York and he had told Michael they needed to stop him and Michael had said, "Stop Brian? _Right. Next we'll take on Starbucks."_

Seeing the pain in his eyes, she said, "I know how you feel."

"No, you don't."

She laughed. "Guys." Shook her head. "You think you're so complicated, so inscrutable. Well, guess what? I knew he loved you way before he admitted it and I knew you loved him way before you came clean so don't tell me I don't know."

"He told you about that?"

Rennie put away her brushes. "We're friends." Twisted a sterling silver ring on her finger. "Maybe he'll come back. I don't know. But he seemed pretty final about it."

"But he said everything was all right," Justin said and even to him it sounded naive.

"What else could he have said to keep you from feeling guilty?"

He acknowledged the truth in her words. "Nothing. I wanted it to be over, to be resolved, and for us to go back to the way things had been." Exclaimed, "Fuck! Rennie, this isn't fair. He's good. He's the best student here and. . ." Helplessly, his words trailed off. "And I don't want him to go."

She shrugged. "Well, he's gone and there's nothing you can do." Before he could say anything, she told him, "We sat up late on Wednesday while he packed and talked about you. He really loves you, Justin."

"I know."

"Every time he saw you wearing Brian's ring, you might as well have jabbed him in the eye with a hot poker."

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked exasperated.

"I'm just telling you what he told me." She waited. "If you weren't with Brian. . ."

"I'd be with him," he answered quietly. "But I am with Brian."

Sliding off the stool, Rennie picked up a finished painting, wrapped in a white cloth. "I gotta take this to Carmichael. Slave driver said the last one wasn't good enough." He held the door open for her. "I'll see you next week when I get back. Later, Boy Wonder."

"Later." Closing the door to her studio, he walked down the hall to his own and sat inside hoping that something would come to him before he had to go home. He should have been glad. Should have been relieved that the problem had been solved. Xavier was gone, he could go on with his life, they both could. Only Xavier was being short-changed because he'd left the Institute. But that wasn't his problem. He wasn't Xavier's keeper, just his friend. _Just the reason he's fucking up his life,_ he told himself bitterly.

He sat inside the studio until the sun dropped down in the sky. Thought about all the times he'd be working to try and forget some spat he and Brian had had and Xavier and Rennie would show up and drag him off to eat and they'd laugh for an hour or so and when he returned to work, he'd actually be looking forward to finding Brian at home and making up. All the times he and Xavier would sit and talk about some artist they'd studied in class or seen at the museum, Xavier able to see something different than him, each of their views enhancing the other's and he'd go back to the loft and impress his lover with his learned views, never letting on that some of them weren't his own.

At last, unable to put it off any longer, he grabbed his stuff to meet Brian. 

 

The ad exec was waiting for him at the diner along with the guys. Kissing hello, he slid into the booth next to his partner. Michael was alone, seated on the end. "Where's Jeff?" he asked.

"Working on some fucking story."

"Well, that's what reporters do," Ted explained earning him a cutting look from Michael.

"So," Emmett began, "you headed for Fort Lauderdale or Daytona Beach for Spring Break to scope out the hot, young, hunky frat boys?"

"Nope." He opened his menu.

"Staying home with hubby, huh?" Said dryly, "How excit-ting. Spring Break at the retirement home."

Brian growled, "Fuck you."

"Save your strength for the Boy Wonder."

Ted laughed. "So what about your little friends? Xavier staying?"

"I hope so," Emmett said, "he's a hottie. Maybe I could persuade him to accompany me to Babylon. If only I were into twinks."

"Way I hear it, usually they are into you. As in inside," Brian commented.

"Wait, did I hear something?" Emmett asked. "Um, and who was it yelling, 'Fuck me, baby, fuck me,' the other night when we stopped by to see if you guys wanted to go to Woody's? Hmm?"

Brian turned about ten different shades of red. Fuck, he'd completely lost control that night. With E coursing through his veins, warming lube and Justin's dick up his ass, and a vibrating latex hood slipped over his cock, he hadn't been able to keep from shouting. Maybe they did need to soundproof the loft.

"So that's why your ass is looking so plump these days," Deb added as she brought over a glass of water for Justin and the guys howled.

Wisely realizing that anything he said would only serve to acerbate the problem, he kept quiet.

"Not a peep?" asked Deb.

And Ted said, "He's worn out from all that yelling. 'Oh yeah, baby. Harder, fuck me harder.' "

Flipping Ted the bird, Brian decided to turn the tables on them. "With a cock like his," he began, "you better believe I ride it. Like a fuckin' Harley," and he kissed Justin so long and hard that the teen felt himself getting excited.

"Gonna demonstrate for us, right here?" asked Michael.

"You should be so lucky," Brian replied, cupping Justin's dick through his jeans. "Save that for later."

Silently, Justin hoped that he'd still be in the mood later. After his news. 

 

All day he’d been thinking about this moment, coming home and being alone with Justin, being able to slough off the day and relax, holding his baby in his arms. As soon as they passed through the threshold he was already in bed mentally. Just a matter of locking the door and walking across the room.

”Brian?”

”Hm?” He set the alarm and headed for the bedroom, certain Justin was following. Once up the stairs, he shucked his jacket and went to hang it up, reaching for Justin’s as well. That’s when he noticed the teen’s face. “What’s wrong?”

”I need to talk to you.”

Returning from the closet, Brian sat on the bed and waited.

”I want to go away for Spring Break.”

”I thought you said- -“

”I changed my mind.”

”Why?”

”Something came up.”

He could imagine. “Xavier?”

Missing the warning in his voice, Justin said, “He’s gone.”

”What? Home? So what?”

”I mean for good.”

And that explained it, the mood he’d been in all through dinner. Instead of responding right away, Brian began practicing his anger management exercises because he knew he was going to need them. After a couple deep breaths, he asked, “And what do you think you can do?”

”Change his mind.”

”Why’d he leave?” even though he knew why. That was fucking obvious.

”Brian- -“

”Why? Because you didn’t choose him?”

”Maybe.”

”Fuck maybe. We all know that’s the reason. So what are you gonna do? What are you gonna offer him to make him come back? Give him your Resident Evil video game?”

”He’s throwing away his life! He was meant to be an artist.” Justin knew he was stalling for time and he knew it wouldn’t work, knew Brian was about five seconds away from a major meltdown.

”I asked you what do you think it’d take for him to come back?”

”I don’t know.”

Standing, Brian said, “You need to come up with a better lie.” He strode from the room, Justin down behind him.

”Brian- -“

He turned, furious. ”So I’m just supposed to stand back and watch you go after him, after a man that loves you, a man that you- -“ A man that you love. He couldn’t say it. Stopped and scratched the back of his head.

Justin trembled. “Don’t,” he pleaded, Don't say it.

”You telling me it’s not true?”

”He’s my friend.”

But that wasn’t all. He knew Justin was lying to him, the same way he’d known Cam was lying to him each time he’d tell him, _’Never again. It won’t happen again. I promise. I promise, baby, it won’t happen again.’_ Only this time he was wearing a ring instead of a bracelet and the stakes were higher because he really didn’t know how he’d be able to go on without Justin. “Don’t fucking lie to me,” he told him. “No matter how much you think it’ll hurt me, it’ll hurt worse- -“

”I’m not!”

”Listen to me.” Brian fixed his hazel eyes on Justin, the green so prominent now that they looked mossy. “This isn’t a game. We fuck this up, that’s it. So you tell me, one way or the other.”

Justin took hold of Brian’s hand. “I love you. Always. Nothing's gonna change that. I swear it.” His eyes were shiny with unshed tears. It wouldn’t be long before his cheeks would be streaked.

Brian didn’t bother to point out that Justin hadn’t said that he didn’t love Xavier. That distinction hadn’t escaped him but he was too tired to bring it up and in the end what did it matter anyway? He wouldn't forbid him to go, couldn't. Softly, he asked, “When do you want to leave?”

”Sunday.”

He nodded, already watching Justin walk away in his mind. “For how long?”

”Thursday or Friday.”

"Just to talk to Xavier?"

"I thought I'd go to the museums too," Justin explained, hoping that Brian would accept that reason more easily than the other.

”Call Leo,” their travel agent, “in the morning. See what he can do.” He started back to the bedroom and Justin came with him but he said, “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

Justin stopped. “Brian. . .”

He paused, not wanting to deal with anything else tonight.

”Thanks.”

”Yeah.” He undressed and went to bed but he didn’t sleep, he just lay there stunned. What the fuck had happened? How’d he lose total fucking control of everything? He went over it in his head and he couldn’t figure it out, when it had happened, when things had changed. Time after time, despite what his gut had told him, he’d ignored the situation and gone on telling himself that everything would be all right. Well, everything wasn’t all right. Justin was about to go after Xavier and he was going to do what? Wait for him to come back and tell him they were through? Squeezing his eyes shut, he refused to give into the fear but he could feel it inching up his body to grip his heart anyway.

What was he doing? The man he’d sworn to spend the rest of his life with was lying in there wondering if they still had a life together and he was online looking at hotels in the DC area and trying to figure out where to stay and what to do while he was in the city. But what could he say to Brian to make him believe in him? Did he even deserve Brian’s trust? He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that he’d rather cut his own throat than hurt Brian but what was he doing except hurting him? _You know what the solution is,_ he told himself. _Don’t go. Stay home and mend things with Brian. Let Xavier take care of himself._ But Xavier needed him and Brian would be right here when he got back. _You sure?_

”Prof?” Brian said, peeping in the door.

”Come on in,” he turned and said and, immediately, he was struck by the man’s beauty all over again.

Brian smiled at his obvious scrutiny and slipped off his sunglasses. It felt damn good to have someone want him. “We doing it in here?”

Praying that his face wasn’t flushed, Trevor laughed and pretended to ignore the more risqué implication of the double entendre. “Light’s bad.” Handed Brian the slide. “What do you think?”

A naked man sleeping. Strong thighs splayed open displaying his cock and balls. “I’d do him,” he replied.

” ‘Barberini’s Faun.’ Think you’d be up to something like that?”

”It’s already been done,” he pointed out.

”A reinterpretation,” said Trevor.

Brian shrugged, handed him back the slide. “You’re the artist, I’m just an ad exec.” 

 

As Brian started to remove his clothes in the studio, Trevor held a flesh-colored posing pouch out to him. "You want to use this?"

"As what? A slingshot?"

"O-kay." Trevor tossed it over his shoulder, got out his pad.

"Where do you want me?"

_On your hands and knees, thought Trevor. Get real, Janson. This is Justin's lover. Remember him? Justin? One of your students? So take a deep breath and move on._

"Prof?" Brian had stripped down to nothing and was waiting for instructions. He seemed so at ease with his nudity it was a wonder he ever wore clothes.

Trevor, on the other hand, was anything but at ease. He could feel his own cock stirring inside his jeans and he was glad he'd worn the tight ones, maybe they'd keep him in line. He indicated a chair. Brian sat, legs spread, cock and balls hanging between his thighs. Perching on a stool, his sketch pad on the easel before him, Trevor suggested, "If you could lean back a little."

"No problem." He assumed the position. "This good for you?"

Forcing himself to look directly at Brian, at what the man was pretending to offer him, Trevor replied, "Perfect." 

 

It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected although just what he’d expected he’d be hard-pressed to explain. Maybe he hadn’t expected anything. He wasn’t sure. Having left Trevor’s studio feeling, at least, appreciated, he’d dreaded going home, seeing Justin’s bags packed for his trip; dreaded another confrontation or, worse, a continuation of the silence, of the not talking about what needed to be discussed. His fears and insecurities were palpable, there was no need to announce them but what to do about them, that was the issue. And nothing Justin could do short of not going to DC would do. In fact, Brian wasn’t certain if even that would take away the fear and anxiety because even if Justin didn’t go he’d still think about Xavier, still miss him, still. . . love him. That was the truth Brian and Justin were trying so damn hard not to reveal when it was right out in the open anyway.

So coming home to find a candlelit dinner waiting for him surprised him. Coming home to find Justin naked except for his blue, silk robe surprised and aroused him. Justin met and kissed him at the door. “Come on.”

He let Justin lead him to the bedroom and stood still while the teen stripped him and slipped his sheer, black robe over his shoulders. “I made lamb chops,” he said as they made their way to the dining table.

Brian poured the wine. “What’s the occasion?”

Stroking the man’s face in passing, on the way to the kitchen, Justin replied, “I’ll miss you.

"Help?” But Justin shook his head so Brian sat and sipped his wine.

"How’d it go?”

"Okay, I guess. Hard to tell. He didn’t say much beyond, _'Turn around,'_ or _'Move your cock to the right.'_ "

"You were naked?”

"Hanging free,” replied Brian, pleased that Justin seemed a little jealous. Thought he’d encourage it. “He wants to do a reinterpretation of some famous statue.” Pretended like he was trying to drudge up the name from the depths of his memory. “Barberini’s Faun, I think. Know it?”

Fuck yeah. Could see Brian sprawled out in front of him, legs spread wide open in invitation. It was amazing Trevor hadn’t fucked him right there on the floor of the studio. “I know it,” he said calmly, bringing in the salads and returning for the chops. No three- or four-course meal tonight, he wanted to eat and make love, preferably spending as little time on the former as possible and as much time on the latter as muscles would permit. Wine, salad, and chops, a pretty bare bones meal but it would do in a pinch. And they had the candlelight and Brian’s sheer robe, so it’d definitely do. It’d more than do. He'd bet almost anything that Trevor would give his right arm to be in his place right now.

"I'm gonna miss your cooking,” Brian admitted. With Justin out-of-town, he’d be back to take-out and the diner.

"That all?” Justin asked, big time fishing.

"And your off-key singing.”

Indignant, Justin said, “I do not sing off-key. That’s you and Michael.”

Brian thought about it. "Oh, yeah." Laughed. "Fuck. What were we thinking? A band?" Could see them playing and singing in Woody's that night they got rip-roaring drunk. "Shit, we were awful."

"Could have been a stripper," suggested Justin, remembering the slutty sweater Brian had worn to Into the Woods and the way it slipped down over his shoulder and the way everyone had stared at him like he was a dream come true.

"Can't dance," Brian admitted since enough people had told him he couldn't. Not well anyway.

"Better things to do with your hips," teased Justin and he lifted his foot and ran it up the inside of Brian's thigh, stroking the long muscle with his toe as he sipped from his wine glass. Brian reached down and tickled the sole and he giggled uncontrollably, nearly snorting Merlot out of his nose.

"Babies," declared Brian, shaking his head a little.

Twenty minutes later they were gently swaying to some singer whose CD came from Justin's part of the collection. Remake of a Depeche Mode song. Not bad. The words. . . well, they were a little disturbing. _"vows are spoken/ to be broken/ feelings are intense/ words are trivial. . ."_ *

Fingers slipping between them, Justin untied the belt to Brian's robe. Untied his own, bodies fitting even closer together. Slid his hand inside the collar to caress Brian's neck. Drew the robe back over Brian's shoulder baring smooth skin, hard muscles.

_"all i ever wanted/ all i ever needed/ is here in my arms. . ."_

Soft lips kissed his throat, nuzzled among the knot of muscles in the center of his chest as he raked his fingers through Brian's hair, making it look even wilder than normal. He felt Brian's hand on his ass, his shoulder blade, holding him in place while the man lapped at his nipple. Christ. . .

And then they were on the sofa, him straddling Brian's hips, robes abandoned on the floor. The tip of his cock grazed Brian's belly as they kissed. He could feel Brian's dick against his inner thigh. Looking down into his lover's bright eyes, he lost himself in their hazel depths. Kissed Brian's raspberry-colored mouth. "I love you," he whispered. Kissed him again, sucking on the edge of Brian's top lip. Snaked his tongue inside his mouth for a quick taste which turned into a more thorough sampling as Brian cupped the back of his head. Moaned as his partner closed his lips around his tongue. Curled the tip and felt Brian's swipe the bottom of his. He got up from his knees, went into a crouch and continued to devour Brian's lips and tongue.

Feeling the first trickle of precum on his chest, Brian took hold of Justin's cock and rubbed it against his pecs, streaking his skin with silvery juice. Justin hissed and Brian smiled. Fingers around the swelling head, Brian brushed the tip right up against his nipple.

"God!" shouted Justin as the tight knob of flesh entered his hole. The sensation went right down his cock into his balls. Caused his other hole to clench tight.

Instead of penetrating him again, Brian rubbed the edge of Justin's cock head against his nipple, the tip of the nub abrasive against the teen's tender flesh. He knew Justin wouldn't be able to take much more, would want him to suck him soon. So he released him and sure enough Justin stood, his cock rampant and demanding attention. Hands around the teenager's thighs, Brian leaned his head forward and flicked his tongue over the dripping tip.

Justin sighed, eyelids fluttering. Another flick and a kiss. "Ah!" Brian's tongue caressed the underside of his cock head, slowly sliding back and forth over the rounded bottom. He couldn't hold back much longer, needed to thrust so badly.

Rotating his head leisurely, Brian took the entire cap into his mouth, hot flesh making its way over his lips to rest on his tongue. He sucked gently and felt the boy shiver in his arms. Pulled away. Took it in again, just as slowly, just the head, just a gentle suck and no more before pulling away once more. But this time Justin wasn't having it. Without even making sure that Brian's mouth was open, he pushed forward. Felt the satisfying touch of his lover's lips upon his skin as his cock blindly made its way inside. Head thrown back, eyes closed, panting, he fucked Brian's head with abandon. Thrusting and withdrawing with little finesse, just needing that movement, needing to feel his cock head drag against the roof of Brian's mouth, push against the soft tissue of his throat, dig into the insides of his cheeks.

Saliva ran down his throat, covered his lips, his nose and cheeks where Justin had pulled free and rubbed against his face in his fucking frenzy. The teen's cock was hard and hot and he moaned each time it sank into his mouth, into his throat. He'd given Justin complete control and the youth was aware that he could do anything to Brian and it aroused him even more, his tight balls slamming against Brian's chin with each thrust.

He pulled free and paused. Opened his eyes and looked down at Brian’s face, flushed with exertion and wet with saliva and sweat. Rubbed his cock over his swollen, red lips and received a lingering kiss that caused his hole to open again, precum surging over Brian’s tongue. Withdrew, a string of sticky juice stretching from the tip of his dick to Brian's lips. Justin smiled and stepped down from the couch. Left the room.

Brian rested his head against the back of the sofa. Tried to ignore his throbbing cock. Prayed that Justin had gone to get the lube. He closed his eyes. Kept them closed even as Justin returned and squatted between his thighs. Felt him slide a condom over his cock. Raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Standing, Justin turned away from him, wet his fingers with KY and then reached around and pushed them up into his hole. Brian’s stomach tightened at the sight of Justin’s anus opening around his fingers. The teen withdrew his fingers and backed up. One hand on Justin’s waist, the other around his cock, Brian waited for the luscious hole to descend upon him.

He reached behind him to grip the sofa, then lowered his ass onto Brian’s dick, inhaling sharply as he stretched around the latex-covered tube of flesh. Released his breath in a long, shuddering exhalation while Brian filled him. Coming to rest at the base, he sat there impaled, body adjusting once more to his lover's invasion.

Lube from Justin’s hole wet the hairs of his groin. Barely moving, he kissed Justin’s back and felt the boy tighten around him. “Oh, baby. . .” He wrapped his arms around the teenager and eased him back against his chest, still buried deep inside him.

Justin’s legs fell open and he moaned, his cock twitching and drooling. Throwing one arm around Brian’s neck, the other clenched across the back of the sofa, Justin slowly raised his hips. Uttered a strangled cry as Brian’s dick backed out of him. Fuck, it felt so good. Brian sliding in and out of him as he raised and lowered his ass onto the stiff cock. Clenching his muscles at the base of Brian’s erection and rotating his hips slightly. He could imagine how he looked, mouth open, whimpering as he forced Brian's meat in and out of his greedy hole.

”That’s it, baby,” whispered Brian, tweaking Justin’s left nipple as the teen rode his cock. Turning his head, he managed to latch onto the right one, tugging on the nipple ring before closing his lips around the entire areola and sucking the boy’s teat until Justin shook, asshole going into spasms around his dick.

Swallowing a cry, Justin ground his ass into Brian’s lap. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. Without even touching his own dick, he found himself so close to the edge that to come would be a welcome release. Gingerly, he touched his cock and pressed against the base of it, taking great gulps of air until the urge to ejaculate passed. Letting go, he allowed himself a momentary rest, his head supported by Brian’s arm.

As Justin had, Brian took a brief rest, ceasing all movement although his cock was still buried deep inside the teen and showed no signs of softening at all. But a breather was all he needed, all he wanted. After a few moments, he was eager to resume pumping, eager for Justin’s muscles to start gripping him again. Taking the boy’s cock in hand, Brian began fucking him once more, thrusting up into his tight hole.

Justin moaned as Brian’s cock explored his insides, pushing down against the dick as it entered him. He felt himself grow even harder in Brian’s hand, the head of his cock turning a fiery red as the blood rushed to the end. Grunting, he rocked against his man, driving his cock through his fist with each movement. Then, in an instant, he’d pulled free. Turned and knelt on the floor at Brian’s feet. Removed the condom from his lover's cock and stuffed it in his mouth. Devouring Brian as the man groaned and buckled on the seat above him.

”Fuck. Yeah. Oh! Oh, baby. . . Ohhhh,” he moaned feeling Justin’s throat close around his tender head.

Dragging Brian’s cock free, Justin tugged on it and was rewarded with a spurt that struck his forehead, dripping down across his eyelid. Another tug and his cheek was wet. He continued to pull on Brian’s dick until his skin was covered with jizz. Then, before he could lose it completely, he stood and jacked off in Brian’s face, giving him a generous cum bath. Balls empty, he fell into Brian’s arms and kissed him, tasting his cum on his lover’s lips, knowing that Brian was tasting his own as well. They kissed and licked and lapped one another’s face clean, loving this as much as the fucking beforehand.

Leaning his forehead against Brian’s, Justin smiled softly.

 

 

Despite having made love most of the previous night, listening to Justin cry out that he loved him with every breath, Brian watched the teen hand the gate agent his ticket with a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not caring who watched, they'd kissed by the window before Justin had to line up and he wished he'd kissed him a dozen times more. Just before releasing Justin, he'd given him a credit card saying, _"Don't go crazy,"_ and Justin had asked, _What do you want me to bring you back?"_ but he hadn't been able to answer, he'd only been able to hold him that much longer. Forcing a smile, he returned Justin's wave just before he entered the boarding tunnel. That would take him to the airplane. That would carry him away. Brian turned and stared out of the window. _Breathe,_ he told himself. He couldn't leave yet, he'd promised Justin that he would stay until the plane took off. So he crossed the waiting area and stood by the window nearest the plane. Twenty minutes later he watched the jet back away from the gate, take its place in line. That's all Justin could ask of him. Leaving his post, he walked to the opposite end of the terminal and exited to the parking garage. 

 

He wondered if Brian had waited until the plane left the gate. He'd been on the other side of the airplane and couldn't see. But if Brian had promised he would, he had. Checking his seatbelt to give himself something to do, he blinked back a tear. Looked out of the window to gain a little privacy. There was one other person in his row, a woman about his mom's age, with an empty seat between them. They'd probably both been praying no one would board at the last minute and when no one did, they'd smiled at one another guiltily. Now, he avoided her eyes. Didn't want anyone to see him cry. _I'll be back,_ he told his missing lover. _I promise._

Deb saw him coming, looking like twenty miles of bad road, and she wondered what'd happened. "Where's Sunshine?" she asked. The boys were having brunch and Justin was off for Spring Break, having taken off the week from work too, even though he probably shouldn't have.

"On his way to DC," he answered, taking one of the two seats at the end of the table.

"What?" She was confused. "I thought he was staying here."

Shook his head. "He's gone to see Xavier. Try and get him to come back to school."

"Wait," Michael asked, "Xavier left school?"

"Yeah." Picked up his menu. He could feel them all looking at him. Wondering. And he didn't feel like explaining anything, just wanted to eat and to forget that last week he and Justin had started their Sunday by making love and having frittata.

Just as he was about to ask another question, Emmett caught Michael's eye and indicated that he should just leave it alone. "Fuck that," Michael said. "Justin's gone after Xavier and you're sitting here wondering what to have for breakfast? What the hell is going on?"

"Maybe something that I can't do a good goddamn thing about," replied Brian in a low voice. He put down his menu. "Just coffee."

"Brian, honey," Deb began and then she shrugged and went to fill his order.

Em drummed his fingers on the table. "Sooo, Jeff, how's Channel 11's hottest reporter?"

"I don't know," he said, "let me call Leslie and find out."

Ted and Em laughed as did Michael but Brian hadn't looked up from the table top.

Returning with two of their orders, Deb set the food down in front of the boys and went back to get the rest. When everyone but Brian had a plate before him, she poured his coffee and waited to see if he'd changed his mind.

"Thanks." Sat staring down at the black liquid. Then picked up the sugar and poured in a generous amount. Stirred and took a cautious sip. Reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple bucks. Stood and headed out of the diner.

"Shit," she cursed and went after him. "Brian?" He paused. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"Maybe it was the coffee," he offered.

"Fuck that."

He got out his cigarettes, lit one. Took a deep drag. Started to speak, then found that he couldn't. Felt her come towards him and did nothing to escape from her when she took his arm.

"Brian. . . kiddo, whatever it is, you'll work it out."

Voice hoarse with emotion, he said, "It might be too late for that."

"It's never too late."

"He's gone and he says he'll be back but. . . _"- - So did Cam- -"_ what if he doesn't? Then what?"

She made him look down at her. "If Sunshine says he'll be back, he'll be back. What the hell is going on?"

Not able to maintain eye contact, he glanced away, hid the motion behind another, taking a second draw on his cigarette. "He loves Xavier."

"They're friends."

He said nothing.

"No. Brian- -"

"He hasn't denied it. And I wouldn't believe him if he did." He puffed on the cigarette. Smiled. "I always figured I'd be just like my old man. Out carousing until I dropped dead." Shook his head. "Never thought I'd end up being just like my mom. Waiting to see if he's coming home or not."

 

 

The plane touched down at National and he got his bags in record time despite the extra security precautions. Made his way through the terminal to the metro station, bought a fare card and went up to the platform to wait for the next train into the city. He only had to go one stop to get to his hotel in Crystal City. He wondered why they called it that. Maybe Xavier would know.

There was the train.

Finding a seat, he thought about Xavier for the first time since his trip had begun. As impossible as it seemed, he hadn't thought about him at all during the flight, hadn't thought of his destination, had only thought of returning home when it was over, keeping his thoughts firmly focused on Brian. Now, they turned towards Xavier. He had his home number and address and, potentially, in a couple hours they could be standing face-to-face. What would he say to his friend?

The hotel was near the subway station, which was cool, no chance of getting lost then. He couldn't check-in yet but the concierge took his bags and he found a quiet place to call Brian on the cell.

The man picked up on the second ring. "You there?"

"Yeah."

"Good flight?"

"Short."

Silence.

"Talked to Xavier?"

"Not yet."

Silence.

"The guys asked about you."

Brian sounded so sad that Justin wanted to run back to the airport and board a plane and fly home right then and there. But he couldn't. There was still the matter of Xavier. "I miss you."

A pause.

"I miss you too, baby."

"Say it again."

"I miss you. I. . . I love you."

"I love you." He stood, holding onto the cell long after the connection had been severed. He'd call Brian again tonight after he'd seen Xavier. Thinking there was no point in putting it off any longer, he found Xavier's number and dialed it. Waited for someone to answer.

"Hello?"

A woman. An older woman. Xavier's grandmother probably.

"Hello. Is Xavier home?"

"Who's calling, please?"

"Justin."

"Hold on." He heard her put the phone down and call out, "Xavier! Xavier, it's for you."

Please, don't tell him who it is, he thought, or he won't come.

"Who is it?" he heard Xavier ask.

"If you come and answer it, you'll find out."

Justin nearly laughed. She sounded just like Xavier had described her. In a moment, the phone was picked up again.

"Hello?"

"Xavier. It's me." He waited.

"Yeah."

"I'm here. In DC."

"What?"

"In Crystal City. Can we meet somewhere?"

"You're in DC? Why?"

"I need to talk to you."

"No, you don't."

"Don't hang up!"

Silence.

"Xavier?"

"Yeah."

"Please. We need to talk."

A long pause. Then, "Where you staying?"

"Days Inn."

"I'll come there. Give me an hour."

"I'll meet you in the lobby. Later."

"Later, J."

Justin smiled. Things couldn't be that bad if Xavier could still call him J. He glanced at his watch. Only a half hour until check-in. Spotting the hotel restaurant, he went inside to have a cup of coffee. Maybe a pastry if they had it. 

 

Having checked-in, put away his clothes, and flipped through the channels on the TV a couple times without seeing anything, he hit the bathroom one last time and headed downstairs to wait for Xavier. During the elevator ride, he tried to collect his thoughts. What would he say to Xavier? What could he say without betraying him and Brian? Maybe he shouldn't have come, maybe he should have stayed home and put his own house in order. This thing between him and Xavier had damaged his relationship with Brian, any fool could see that. How much longer could he expect Brian to put up with this? Maybe it wouldn't take much longer. Either he'd succeed or fail on this trip and no matter what, that'd be the end of it, he swore to himself. And Brian. After all that Brian had done for him the man deserved more, better of him. He deserved nothing less than Justin's complete and utter devotion. It's what he'd sworn to Brian when they'd exchanged rings. It's what he wished for himself. So what about Xavier? _Xavier is my friend,_ he told himself. _That's all he ever can be._ All he could allow him to be. _So why don't you tell your heart that?_

Within a few minutes of his arrival in the lobby, Justin spotted Xavier. Expecting no great change in Xavier, Justin was surprised to see that he, in fact, seemed quite different. Only he now knew that the face Xavier had shown him those last few weeks before Spring Break had been a mask. Xavier hadn’t been able to put his feelings for Justin aside. _Had you?_ Still, one thing hadn’t changed, Xavier’s lazy walk. As he sauntered over, Justin smiled.

”Hey, J.”

”Hey.”

”We gone do this here?” Xavier asked, looking around at the clerks behind the reception desk and the hotel guests milling around.

”Too. . . public.”

”Your place?”

Justin took out his room key. “It’s on the eighth floor.”

In silence they rode the elevator, each struggling to formulate a game plan that would allow them to walk away from that room unscathed and yet they both knew it was not to be. No matter what happened, there were already scars.

Playing the perfect host, Justin offered Xavier a chair and something from the fridge. It was stocked with soda and bottled water. But Xavier refused.

”We hadn’t too long ate dinner. Just got back from church.”

”Your grandmother make you go?”

”I like going. The music mostly. It helps me forget.” Looked down at his hands. “For a little while.”

Justin sat on the edge of the bed. “Why’d you leave?”

”Come on, J,” Xavier said. “We’re too far along for that.”

”But you said- -“

”You believed me?” he asked.

But even Justin couldn’t own up to that lie. “I wanted to.”

”I wanted to mean it.” Shrugged. “Just couldn’t.”

”You can’t give up your dreams because of me.”

”I’ll go to the Art Institute of Washington. Over in Rosslyn.”

”You had a scholarship.”

”I’ll get another one. Besides, DC has better museums than Pittsburgh anyway. And it’s just as close to New York. Maybe a little closer. Plus I’d be near my grandmother.”

Angrily, Justin asked, “Then why’d you come to IFA in the first place? You could have saved yourself the trouble.”

”And you? Saved you from having to think about me, having to deal with me? Well, now I’m gone.” He stood. “You don’t have to mess with me anymore. It’s over. Brian won and you can go back and live happily ever after. I gave you that.”

”I don’t need your fuckin’ pity. Or your gifts. I came here because I felt bad, because I thought it was my fault that you left and I wanted to fix things.”

”Bullshit.” Xavier neared Justin. “You came here because you love me. Because you can’t get me out of your fuckin’ system. Because despite having the ring and the apartment and the great Brian fuckin’ Kinney, you want me. But I ain’t slinking around for you or anybody else. So take your punk ass home and mind your own goddamn business.”

”Fuck you!” shouted Justin.

Xavier whipped around. “Fuck yourself. You wanted Brian, you got him. So why ain’t you home with him, huh? I don’t need you running after me like some tired-assed bitch in heat.”

”Get out!”

Xavier shot over his shoulder, “Trying to.” Snatched open the door. “You go back home and play Lady of the Manor. DC ain’t no place for you, Sleeping Beauty.” He slammed the door as he left.

Justin nearly screamed. Then he got up and threw open the door and almost had a heart attack. Xavier was standing next to him. He hadn’t gone anywhere.

For a moment they stared at one another, then Xavier asked softly, “We gone fuck out here in the hallway or are you gonna ask me in again?”

Justin pulled him into the room and pushed him up against the door. They kissed hungrily, hands tearing at each other’s clothes which was difficult as they could barely force themselves to part, rubbing up against one another, cocks stiffening. Justin reached in and stroked Xavier’s dick, the head already moist. Ran his thumb over the tip and felt Xavier moan in his mouth. Somehow they made it to the bed and fell upon it. Xavier rolled Justin over onto his back and stripped his pants down to his ankles. Pulled Justin’s sneakers off and freed his legs from his jeans. Pushed his own pants down around his knees. “Open up,” he said but Justin shook his head.

”I’m not ready.”

”Shit, J,” groaned Xavier cause he was about to explode.

”It’s okay.” He eased Xavier back and curled over his groin. Licked the end of Xavier’s cock. Watched as the teen shivered. Kissed the head tasting precum. “Yes,” he breathed. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, Justin jacked Xavier as he sucked him off, filling his mouth with the other boy’s throbbing dick, feeling Xavier tremble as he fought to keep from coming but, in the end, he gave up and cried out as he blew his load, Justin's thick lips mid-shaft and still working him.

By the time Xavier had gotten his breath back, Justin had completely stripped. As he returned to Xavier’s side he noticed the strange look on his face. “What?”

”You’re so beautiful,” he said, shyly stroking Justin’s hip.

The blond leaned over and kissed Xavier’s cock. “You taste good.”

Embarrassed, Xavier laughed. “Justin!” Together they finished getting him undressed and lay together kissing.

”Now we can go real slow,” said Justin, kissing Xavier’s throat. His skin felt so smooth, even at four in the afternoon.

”I can’t stay all night.”

”I'll take what I can get. Still got all evening,” Justin said, sliding his hand down between Xavier’s thighs. Encircling his cock with thumb and finger. Gently, he stroked him, feeling the boy’s penis stir again. Leg thrown over Xavier’s hip, he pressed against the other teen as they kissed, his fingers still traipsing up and down his dick. His tongue discovered traces of spices in Xavier’s mouth, the remnants of an earlier meal. Fingers abandoning their work, he cupped his lover’s ass and pulled him closer, their hard-ons sliding against one another. Xavier hissed and tensed as Justin’s shaft stroked his, wet head bumping his belly. Blond hair brushed against black, one pair of plump balls pressed against another and the two teens moaned in each other’s mouth while rubbing their cocks together.

Breaking free, Justin twisted around and latched onto Xavier’s erection, drawing it almost all the way inside his mouth. So hard, head firm and dripping precum.

”Fuck,” whispered Xavier, buttocks tightening as Justin sucked his cock. His entire body tingled each time Justin’s tongue slid over the tip. He lifted his head and watched as the blond boy made a circuit of the cap of his cock, saliva and precum making his skin shine. Justin kissed his way down the shaft and nuzzled among his balls. He wanted to grab his cock and feed it to his lover, fill his throat with flesh and cum and, at the same time, he wanted to taste Justin, to satisfy his own hunger. Drawing Justin’s hips over his head, he raised up a little and licked a bead of precum from the tip of his dick, triggering a gush, and precum flowed over his lips. Opening his mouth, he let Justin slide inside.

Mouth stuffed with cock, Justin couldn’t speak but he groaned around the hard flesh as Xavier sucked him intensely, cheeks hollowed and tight around his shaft. His hole twitched, wanting to be touched, eaten, fucked. Letting Xavier slide free of his mouth, he lay with his face buried in the other boy’s crotch, enjoying the blow job he was receiving.

Xavier rolled them over, knelt over Justin and continued to suck him off, greedy for his cock. He licked down the shaft from the head to his balls and then stretched his lips around them as well. He could hear Justin moaning as he gnawed on him.

”Lick me,” Justin breathed.

Xavier encircled Justin’s nuts.

”No,” Justin told him and then opened his thighs wider, touching himself. “Down here.”

Releasing Justin, Xavier shifted positions, turned around so that he faced Justin. “You want me to lick your ass?”

”Yes.”

Despite wanting to do whatever it took to please Justin, Xavier couldn’t do it. He’d never done it to another person and he couldn’t see it, now even for Justin. “I can’t.”

”Please,” begged Justin but Xavier shook his head. Justin groaned, wanting it so badly it hurt.

Reaching for the lube Justin had brought with him, Xavier wet his fingers, then eased his finger between Justin’s cheeks. He brushed the tip over his hole. Justin gasped and Xavier could feel him pucker up and then relax. Again he touched the tight knot of flesh and again Justin responded. Teasing Justin for a few more seconds, he placed the tip of his finger against the center of his asshole and pushed.

”Oh. . . Yes!”

His finger passed through the first ring of muscle, then the second. He could feel the slick walls of Justin’s ass. Applying more pressure, he worked his finger in deeper to the satisfaction of his partner. Every time Justin moaned it made his cock harder and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d want his cock to be where his finger was now. He watched as Justin trembled, shuddering each time he moved his finger, and the sense of power he felt was like an aphrodisiac. He was doing that to Justin, him. Just by fingering him. Imagine what it would be like when he fucked him. And the thought made his dick throb. He needed to be in him.

Even though Xavier hadn’t rimmed him, Justin found himself writhing on the bed, hole filled with the other teen’s finger. Fighting the urge to scream. His cock was so hard all it’d take was the slightest effort to bring him off. Taking hold of the shaft, he pressed down, suppressed the desire to come. Whispered, “Fuck me.”

Finger slipping free, Xavier knelt and unrolled a condom over his dick, lubed it up. Justin raised his legs, let them fall over the other teen’s broad shoulders. Reached down and took hold of Xavier’s cock, guided him to his hole. As the head made contact he gasped and felt Xavier push forward, parting the folds.

It was where he’d wanted to be for so long that he paused, overcome, head lowered and eyes closed. And then he felt Justin’s hand on his face. Opening his eyes, he saw Justin smile and heard him say softly, “Come closer.”

Obeying his lover’s command, he slid all the way inside and paused again. Laid his head on Justin’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe he was so close to Justin, joined to him like this. If he could, he would have buried his balls inside him as well. He never wanted them to part and yet, the urge to withdraw was building, the urge to pump, to thrust. He backed out part way and lunged forward again.

The bed shook as they fucked, muscles straining as they strove to be closer.

He uttered something unintelligible, feeling Xavier’s cock slide in and out of him, feeling Xavier’s belly rub against his dick with each thrust. It wouldn’t be long, he couldn’t hold out much longer, could hear Xavier moaning, knew he was close too. Gripping Xavier, he groaned and came, cum splattering his partner’s stomach, cock sliding through jizz as it continued to spit.

With each spasm of Justin’s asshole, Xavier felt his control slipping away. Grunting against Justin’s shoulder, he gave himself over to his orgasm, balls slapping against his lover’s ass as he pumped mindlessly. 

 

"Where did these come from?" Justin asked Xavier, tracing his tattoos with his finger.

"Guy downtown did 'em," Xavier replied.

"No, I mean, the designs. Are they some kind of tribal symbols?"

Xavier shook his head. "I designed them."

"You?" Leaning over Xavier, Justin studied the other arm as well. "What do they mean?"

"They're symbols for Ogun."

Eyes widening momentarily, Justin said, "Like my statue," meaning the piece Xavier had made for his birthday.

Shyly, "Yeah."

"Why's he so important?"

And Xavier explained, "He's the god of creativity, and of artistry, and metal works."

Justin stroked Xavier's bicep. "You gave me a piece of you."

Pleased that Justin understood the importance of the gift, Xavier agreed. "I guess I did." 

 

Standing in the shadows of the office building that towered over the Metro station, Justin and Xavier kissed.

"Sure you gotta go?”

"My nana’ll be worried sick if I don’t.”

"Tell her you’re with me.”

Xavier laughed. “That’ll go over real well.” Popped Justin’s butt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

"Early. I want to go sightseeing.”

"Nine?”

Justin kissed him. “Here. At nine.”

One final peck on the lips. “Later, J.”

Justin wiggled his fingers the way Gus did when he said goodbye. All the way back to the room he smiled like a fool. Stepping onto the elevator, he punched ‘8’ and stepped back. There was a couple in there with him. The woman smiled. He returned it.

Pointing to his hand, she said, “That’s a beautiful ring. White gold?”

"No,” he replied, suddenly sobered, “platinum.”

Brian. 

 

At last the phone rang. His hand trembled slightly as he answered but he forced himself to speak in an even voice, without emotion. “Yeah.”

"Hey.”

"Hey yourself.” Waited.

"You eat yet?”

He had. “Diner with Mikey and Jeff. Fucking turkey meatloaf. I ate an entire roll of Tums afterwards and I can still taste the grease.”

Justin read the subtext: Come home. I need you. I miss you. “I had a chicken burrito at this cool restaurant not too far from the hotel.”

So he was gonna make him ask. “You see Xavier?”

"Yeah. He went with me.” _After we made love for two hours._ “He seems okay.”

 _Now that you’re there._ “Did he say if he was coming back or not?” _Are you?_

"No. But I think he will.” _Don’t ask me anymore._

 _I can’t ask,_ he thought. “Call tomorrow?”

"Late, okay?”

"Sure.” Waited.

"I love you.”

"I love you too.” Brian held the phone until he heard the click signaling that Justin was gone and he tried not to feel as if it was for forever. Putting down the receiver, he went to the counter and picked up the Beam, poured a shot into a glass and knocked it back. Debated having another and decided to quit while he was lucid and in control. _I wonder if- -_ he began to ask himself and he clamped down on that thought. It would only drive him crazy. He had a joint left he remembered but decided against having it. Without Justin there to share it he’d have way too much, probably fall asleep with it in his mouth and burn the fuckin’ place down.

So he went to bed without the joint. Stripped completely and slid under the covers and tried to forget that he was sleeping alone but the bed was so fucking big and he was so fuckin’ lonely and horny, he missed his little boy, his baby. Curled on his side, facing away from Justin’s side of the bed, Brian closed his eyes and tried to pretend that he wasn’t alone, that Justin was behind him but he couldn’t hear him breathing and he couldn’t smell his scent and he didn’t feel Justin’s arm around him and that was what it took to start the tears to trickling and he lay there, angry and afraid, missing Justin so much that he thought he would go out of his mind. 

 

In the morning he got up and went to work without eating breakfast, miserable and tired from having too little sleep. No sooner had he stepped into the office when Cynthia appeared with his schedule for the day. Noticed the bags under his eyes. “Want some coffee?”

"Thanks.”

She left and returned with an extra large cup. “Someone’s missing Justin.” He cut his eyes at her. “How does he like DC?”

"He just got there," he snapped.

"Grouchy too. So when’s he coming back?”

Ignoring the question, he asked, “What do I have?” Not that he listened to her. His thoughts were on Justin.

"How about I come back after the coffee’s had a chance to work.” Closing the book, she went back to her desk, leaving him to brood over his cup of joe.

He checked his watch. Thought about calling Justin’s room but decided against it. Knowing Justin he was probably out already sight-seeing. He thought about their trip to the Bahamas and laughed. Justin had planned almost every moment of every day. But he’d enjoyed it. More than he would have alone. The teen had a sense of wonder that was infectious and, as much as he’d groused about the museums and the historical sites, he’d actually had fun. Would have liked to have gone with him to Washington too. _Remember Europe?_ he reminded himself. _You’ll have a whole month to tour the sites and your ass is going to be museum out._ He hoped.

He’d gotten to the Metro station a little early and stood waiting for Justin to appear. That morning as he’d gotten up, taking a quick shower before his grandmother rolled out of bed, he thought of the day ahead, of the week ahead and he’d never been happier in his life, not even when he’d learned he’d been accepted into IFA and gotten a scholarship. Even though that dream had sustained him for a long time, for a long, horrible time after Tony had been killed, it was nothing compared to Justin. Justin was better than that. He started humming one of his favorite songs.

 _Oh, oh/ I never felt this way/ How do you give me/ So much pleasure/ And cause me so much pain?/ And just when I think/ I've taken more than would a fool/ I start falling'/ Back in love with you. . ._ **

Justin could hear him humming Alicia Keyes as he neared Xavier. He loved that song, loved listening to Xavier hum it. His voice was a little deeper than his and the way the notes rumbled from his chest made him feel tingly. There was no other way to describe it. Xavier turned just as he got close to him and smiled. “You’re here,” for want of anything better to say.

”Said I would be,” replied Xavier. “Where we going first?”

”I want to go to the National Mall, see the memorials and then go to the museums.”

Bobbing his head, Xavier said, “Sounds like a plan. You eat yet?”

”Yeah.”

”Better get a move on then.”

Following Xavier down the escalator, Justin knew he had a silly grin on his face but he couldn’t help it. They hadn’t even touched yet this morning and still he felt connected to Xavier. He couldn’t wait until they had a private moment together.

For his part, Xavier didn’t even feel the escalator steps beneath his feet. Didn’t hear the voices of the other commuters. Was only aware of the presence behind him, of Justin standing on the step above him. He wanted so badly to reach back and touch him but it really wasn’t necessary. They were together. No matter how long it lasted, for right now, for this moment, they were together.

Once they got inside the station, Xavier said, “We can either take the blue line all the way around to the Smithsonian or we can take the yellow line to L’Enfant Plaza and switch to the blue line.”

”Which is better?”

”It’s shorter to go yellow to blue. Plus, the train goes over the water and you can see the Potomac.”

”Cool," he said, bypassing the fare machines as he had bought a weekly pass in the airport Metro station when he’d first arrived.

They didn’t have to wait long for a train and Xavier made sure Justin got a window seat even though the train was full of people going to work as well as other tourists.

When they got to the Pentagon stop, Justin said, “It still seems so weird, that something like that could happen.” They both knew what he was talking about. The attack on September 11th.

”Yeah, my grandma went over and saw the hole. She said it was crazy. Hard to believe what you were looking at even though your eyes were telling you it had happened.”

Surreptitiously, Justin slipped his hand into Xavier’s for just a moment and he was reminded of Brian and, guiltily, let go. They’d celebrated Gus’ birthday not long after September 11th; he’d been at Mel and Lindsay’s with Brian and the guys watching Gus stuff cake up his nose. And afterwards they’d gone to an inn outside of town and spent the night celebrating the anniversary of the moment they’d met. Blinking rapidly, Justin fought back the tears. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t be with Xavier and think about Brian too. But he was wearing his ring, and the words inside were hot against his skin.

Knowing what he was probably thinking about, Xavier leaned against him and whispered, “If you want to go back. . .”

He shook his head. “No.” Forced a smile. “This is our time.” He took a furtive glance at the water as the train entered the tunnel on the DC side having been so preoccupied with the past that he hadn’t paid any attention to the river when they exited the tunnel on the Virginia side.

They got out at L’Enfant Plaza and changed to the blue line, rode to the next stop, and went out into the air once more. Justin stood for a moment looking around him at the National Mall: the Capitol Building on one end, the Washington Monument on the other, and the buildings of the Smithsonian along both sides. It was amazing. His parents had brought him to DC once when he was a little boy but he didn’t remember anything except for the pandas at the zoo. Turning away from the Capitol, the two teenagers walked past the last of the museums, crossed the street, and made their way over the lawn towards the Washington Monument. Justin craned his neck to see to the top.

”Wanna go up?”

There was already a line forming but they figured maybe it wouldn’t take too long. They stopped and scored two free tickets from the kiosk and then got in line. The monument wouldn’t open until ten but it was a good idea to line up now and just wait it out.

Luckily there weren't too many people in front of them and they were able to go up relatively soon after the park ranger opened up the building. They took the elevator up with a French family and Justin wanted to practice on them but was too shy, figuring they were probably very sophisticated Parisiennes who'd laugh at his accent despite having gotten straight A's in French in high school.

Five hundred feet off the ground in the observation area, they looked out of the windows on all four sides of the monument. To the north they saw the White House; to the east the Capitol Building and the Smithsonian; to the south they could see the Jefferson Memorial and beyond it, Reagan National Airport; and looking westward, they spotted the Lincoln Memorial, the Reflecting Pool, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and across the Potomac, Arlington National Cemetery. Amazing.

Although they would have liked to have spent more time at the top, they had a full day ahead of them, so they took the elevator back down to the base and walked over to and along the Reflecting Pool that ran in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Veering right, they walked along the edge of the Constitution Gardens and over to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. People were busy looking up a particular name among the thousands of names on the obsidian wall and in the directory that told them where each person was listed on the monument. Already there were a number of offerings placed along the base of the panels, left by friends of the dead and missing, soldiers who'd served with them, children who'd never known their fathers, women who'd lost husbands and sons. Justin's attention was arrested by a sketch someone had done of a child with the words, "Hi, Grandpa Joe," written underneath the portrait.  
"I read that the artist said she wanted the monument to look like a cut in the ground, to symbolize a hurt that can never quite heal," Xavier said.

"I can't believe she was only twenty-one-years-old." Justin looked one last time at the monument before they moved on. "You think we'll ever be that good?"

"Positive," replied Xavier. "Well," he joked, "maybe I will. I don't know about you."

"Shut up," Justin grinned.

From there they visited the Lincoln Memorial, standing transfixed before his statue as so many others had done over time, walking inside and reading the words he'd spoken over a hundred years ago, words that still inspired: "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal;" and "With malice toward none, with charity for all. . . "

"You see all the things they're saying about him now? How he believed black people were inferior to white people and that he didn't really think slavery was wrong?" Justin asked.

Xavier shrugged. "Good people make mistakes too, just like everybody else. You supposed to spit on the good a person does just because they're not perfect? What kind of sense does that make?" He studied the features of the slain president. "Besides, you can't ever know what's in a person's heart, not entirely."

When they got to the Jefferson Monument, both of them cracked up. "Now he was something else," Xavier said, shaking his head. "A fuckin' genius."

"And a fucking fuck machine," laughed Justin. "He was like the Brian Kinney of Colonial times."

"Hey," Xavier declared, "you write the Declaration of Independence, and design Monticello and the University of Virginia, and you can fuck whoever you want to too."

Justin grinned. "Already do."

"So wrong."

By the time they had done the monuments and walked along the tidal basin among the cherry trees that wouldn’t begin blossoming for another two weeks, the museums had opened. Justin was anxious to go to the Hirshhorn, as was Xavier, so they made their way back past all the other museums to get to it first. “This is my favorite place to go,” Xavier explained. “I could spend two hours in Twentieth Century Sculpture alone.”

Making their way up to the special exhibits first, they viewed artwork by Neto and Westermann, marveling at the differences between the two artists and yet appreciating both. Justin was taken with the organic forms suggested by Neto's soft sculpture, comprised of fabric filled with billions of tiny styrofoam beads; while Xavier lost himself in the intricate boxes constructed by Westermann.

 

”I hate I missed the Munoz,” Xavier complained. “But my grandma came and bought the exhibition catalog for me as a Christmas present.”

”She must be really cool.”

”She’s all right.”

”More than all right," prodded Justin.

”Yeah,” Xavier admitted, “but don’t tell her that. Man, she is something else.”

”Like you?”

”Look who’s talking.”

Then Justin realized what Xavier had said. "You mean I get to meet her?"

"If you want."

Eyes brightening, Justin replied, "I want to."

They didn’t spend two hours in the Twentieth Century Sculpture section, but it did take them over an hour to make a circuit of the floor. Justin could see why Xavier had a love of the form and he could easily imagine his friend's/lover's work occupying a place of honor among the Picasso and Smith and Giacometti pieces someday.

As it was lunchtime, Xavier suggested they eat in the National Gallery of Art cafeteria and then do the exhibits there. Which sounded like a plan to Justin as the breakfast he’d eaten that morning had long disappeared.

They found a table in a relatively empty section of the dining room and sat down to eat their exorbitantly priced hamburgers and fries. But they didn’t care because the museum didn’t charge admission and it was worth the eight dollars each for lunch. “I’m kinda glad they don’t have stuff like this in Pitts,” he said carelessly.

”Why?”

”Cause I’d never get to see- -“ He stopped himself. Ate a fry.

”Never get to see Brian?”

Justin shook his head. “I promised that this would be our day.”

”I don’t expect you to forget about him.”

But Justin cut off any discussion. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

”We’re gonna have to talk about it sometime.”

”I know.” He focused on the man-made waterfall across the room behind a glass wall, tropical plants and water flowing over stone steps. “Just not today.”

They strolled around the gift shop for a few moments to give their lunch time to digest before heading upstairs. Justin was so excited he could hardly wait. These were his heroes working in the medium he preferred: the drawing, whether it was a self-portrait by Picasso or a Georges Braque collage, Dubuffet's use of butterfly wings on paper or an abstract by Gorky. "Do you believe this?" he asked Xavier.

"What?"

He read from the brochure for the exhibition, "That 'Drawings remain the life force of the artist?' "

"Yeah." Teased, "I know you do."

Justin smiled. "I'm not a bad painter," he said in his defense. Remembered finger painting Brian in the- -

"J?"

He turned away, pretending to study a drawing by Wayne Thiebaud.

"I know you're thinking about him." Xavier waited for Justin to look back around. "It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"You're wearing his ring." Justin didn't answer just read some more from the exhibition brochure. "J?"

"There's still a couple more rooms."

Not pushing it, Xavier followed Justin into the next part of the exhibition.

Spending fifteen minutes in the remaining two rooms, they exited the museum after a stop in the gift shop so that Justin could pick up the exhibition catalogue. He swore he couldn't live without it and hoped that Brian wouldn't begrudge him the fifty-five dollars he spent on it.  
From the National Gallery of Art, the two budding artists visited the two sculpture gardens on the mall and then headed for the Freer Gallery of Art where they discovered this awesome exhibit of work by a Chinese artist, Xu Bing, whose instillations explored the interplay between pictures and words. They were especially impressed by a piece called "The Living Word" in which the dictionary meaning for bird was written in Chinese characters in ink on a piece of paper on the floor and then shaped in acrylic. Gradually, by changing the character slightly from standardized Chinese text to the ancient pictographs based on the bird's actual appearance, the words eventually became a flock suspended in mid-air entrancing all who saw them. They went from one floor of the exhibition to the other, even stopping to type their names into a program on an iMac which transformed the words into pseudo-Chinese characters. Justin took out a piece of paper and carefully copied the character. Then, while Xavier pretended to be occupied with his own name, he typed in Brian's and copied it as well. They would have liked to have stayed for the calligraphy lessons but they wanted to hit the Corcoran Gallery before it closed at five.  
"So why didn't you go to the Corcoran College of Art?" Justin asked as they trekked up to Constitution Avenue, then over to and north on 17th Street to the gallery.

"Wanted to get away from home, I guess." He shrugged. "Never been anywhere before."

Shyly glancing over at his friend, Justin said, "I'm glad you did."

"Even with everything that's happened?"

He nodded. Then, "Look. The White House. Brian calls him 'That Guy'." Paused, revised his statement. "Okay, he calls him 'That Fuckin' Bone-Headed Guy'."

The traveling exhibition at the Corcoran "Jasper Johns to Jeff Koons: Four Decades of Art from the Broad Collection" didn't disappoint. Xavier, for one, studied the piece by Jean-Michel Basquiat, not believing that anyone could couple that kind of anger with crystal clear vision at such a young age.

"You do."

Xavier looked surprised. "Not yet."

"You're wrong. One day we're gonna be saying we knew you when."

Laughing, Xavier said, "You're probably gonna be calling me saying, 'Where's the money you owe me?' "

"Whatever you want," promised Justin.

"Don't say that," Xavier told him.

"At least until Thursday."

 

 

The day passed without incident, he didn’t have any pressing meetings, just team get-togethers for progress reports. Satisfied that everyone was up to speed, he decided to take off early, go to the gym and sit in the sauna for a while.

The usual suspects were about eyeing him as if still not buying the ring and his declaration of fidelity to Justin. They hovered around seemingly in case he came to his senses despite his numerous refusals. Maybe I am being a fool. Justin was probably having the time of his life with Xavier, sightseeing during the day, making love- - "No." He startled himself with the word. Looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one except the guy who had just walked past him.

The man turned. "Fuck you."

And Brian could have laughed. Wiping his hair away from his forehead, he closed his eyes again. Concentrated on clearing his mind.

"Lot of disappointed people around here."

He replied without opening his eyes, "Some of them ought to be used to it by now." Felt Trevor sit next to him.

"Thought you might be interested in coming by the studio."

"Why?"

"I'm working on the clay model for the statue. I could really use you right now. Sketches are good for working out some things but I'm doing some fine work on the face and having the real thing there would help tremendously."

Smoothing his towel, Brian opened his eyes and shrugged. "I'm not doing anything tonight." _Or tomorrow night or the night after that._

"Justin won't mind?"

"Justin's not here. He's gone after Xavier."

Confused, Trevor asked, "Why?"

"Didn't you know? Xavier was thinking about leaving. Actually, I guess, he had decided to leave."

Xavier was one of Trevor's favorite students. Even though Xavier preferred metalwork to stone, the two of them shared a deep love of sculpture in all of its manifestations and Trevor knew that one day, if he continued his studies and worked hard, Xavier could have a very fruitful and successful career as a sculptor. "He didn't say anything to me."

"Well," said Brian, "I wouldn't worry about it." He stood. "Justin's pretty persuasive. It's hard to say no to him." Walked out.

Having showered and changed, Brian followed Trevor to the Institute and tried not to think about anything at all, especially about how miserable he was and how much he missed his baby. But it was pointless because as he walked through the hallways to Trevor's studio, he thought about the student ones further on, thought about the time he'd come to find Justin and had found Trevor instead, the temptation to give into the man's wishes so strong that he'd very nearly succumbed. Then he thought about him and Justin fucking in his studio, an episode that still gave him a hard-on. He parked the Jeep and stared into the darkness. Was startled by Trevor tapping on the side window.

Despite being unfinished, the clay sculpture was still impressive. It was life-sized for one thing, which explained the meticulous measurements Trevor had taken; and the pose was pure Brian Kinney, the famous antecedent nonewithstanding. It looked as if he'd just come from Babylon, exhausted, and managed to take off most of his clothes before collapsing onto the couch, one foot still entangled in his jeans. And even though the face was only roughly shaped, he could see the resemblance. He was genuinely in awe of Trevor's talent. "That's amazing."

"It'll get better."

So Brian sat for a half hour while Trevor made corrections to the head of the clay model; watching as the man's strong fingers applied clay, smoothing the planes of the face with his thumb.

When Trevor was done, he stood back and compared the statue to the original and seemed satisfied. As Janson wiped his hands clean, Brian came over and examined his work. "So what do you think?"

"It's me all right."

Trevor, risking a touch, took hold of Brian's face and moved it from side to side. "The lips were the hardest part. And the eyes." He gazed at Brian. "You have the most amazing eyes."

Swallowing, Brian made no attempt to move but he was acutely aware of the danger he was in. Knew that he was feeling vulnerable and alone, knew that they were attracted to one another. He lowered his eyes. "Right now, you could ask me," he confessed huskily, "and I probably wouldn't be able to say no."

It was difficult but Trevor released him. "Then I won't ask." Moved away. Without turning around, he said, "Unless you want me to."

Shaking a little, Brian studied Trevor's back, the promise of strength in the set of his shoulders, and he remembered the feel of his fingers on his face, gentle yet firm in their purpose. It would be so easy right now to say yes, to forget about Justin and all of that shit, to just fuck himself into forgetfulness, only he couldn't forget and he knew it. Fucking Trevor would only complicate things, cloud the issue, and that's the last thing this situation needed. But he needed to feel wanted and Trevor wanted him, Trevor wanted him and Trevor was here and Justin wasn't, Justin was in DC getting his dick sucked- - "Fuck!" he whispered harshly.

Trevor turned. "Brian?"

But he was gone.

He nearly ran from the building, jumped into the Jeep, and took off, the sound of screeching tires trailing in his wake. Wanting to go to Babylon or Woody's and drink himself into oblivion he, instead, went home and grabbed the Beam. Took the bottle with him into the bedroom and set it on the beside table while he undressed. Tying his robe about his waist, he settled down for a long night of serious drinking. He didn't expect Justin to call until late, if at all, and he didn't care. Which wasn't true, he just cared too damn much. 

 

When Justin did finally call Brian was still awake and still sober. As much as he'd wanted to, he hadn't taken more than a couple sips of the bourbon. He picked up the phone on the third ring so as not to seem too desperate. "Yeah."

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Do anything exciting today?"

"Went to work. To the gym. The Institute."

"For what?"

"Trevor's statue."

"You have dinner?"

He lied, "Take-out."

"Brian. . . what's wrong?"

"Nothing." _Except that. . ._ Shook his head. There was no point.

"You sure? You sound different."

"I said I'm okay."

Pause.

"You want me to come home?"

"Yeah, I do." Then he added, "When your trip is done."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Stop treating me like a fuckin' two-year-old. Another couple of days of greasy food and jerking off won't kill me." Yet he was angry, angry because it was killing him, because more than anything he wanted to tell Justin to take the next flight home. He wanted that so badly. Why didn't Justin understand and just do it? Just come the hell home?

"Fine."

Brian closed his eyes. I want you to come home. "I gotta go. It's late. We're not all on vacation."

"Sorry." Then, "I love you."

After a moment, "I love you too." He hung up. Picked up the bottle of Beam and upended it, taking a long swig. Wiped his face where a trickle had escaped his lips.

 

 

Immediately he knew that something had happened between the time he’d left Justin’s room last night and this morning. Justin’s manner was subdued and the gleam in his eye had all but disappeared. He was willing to bet it had to do with Justin’s daily call home. More than likely Brian was getting tired of sleeping alone and he had to be, at least, fifty percent convinced that he and Justin were sleeping together. “We don’t have to do this today,” Xavier said. They were going to hang out in Dupont Circle this afternoon, go to the Phillips and the Textile Museum, and then have dinner in the area, maybe hit the clubs. “I got stuff I can do.”

”No.” Justin hugged himself tightly. “I wanna do this. Besides,” he added, “I’m starving.”

”Justin, I know this is hard- -“

”You don’t know,” he replied. “I feel- -“ Stopped and looked away.

Taking Justin’s arm, Xavier pulled him back towards the hotel. “Come on.” Justin offered no resistance and handed over his card key when they got to his room. Sat down by the window. “What happened?”

”I called him.”

”And. . . ?”

”And he knows.”

”How, J? You didn’t tell him.”

”He’s not stupid!”

”Justin, come on.”

”Come on what? He’s at home and I’m here. . . and I. . . and. . . “

”And you want to be with him?”

”And I don’t want to hurt him. And I am. I know that I am. I can hear it in his voice.”

”You wanna go home?”

”Yes!” He sniffled. “I should never have come.”

”No, you shouldn’t have.”

”You should have said no.”

”Turn down the one thing in this world that I wanted the most? Why? Why would I do that, J?” Justin covered his face. From where he stood, Xavier watched his shoulders shake as he sobbed. Finally, Xavier went to him and embraced him. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry this is so hard.”

”What am I gonna do?”

Xavier kissed him softly on the cheek. “We’re gonna go to Dupont Circle and hit the museums and the galleries, scope out the cute guys, and then we’re gonna go to my place and wait for Nana Rose to come home. She’ll know what to do.” They had planned to go clubbing but Xavier figured Justin needed Nana Rose and her home cooking more than he needed house music.

So they went to Dupont Circle and had lunch at Afterwords, the café in the back of Kramer’s Books. Strolled down the street, checking out the cute gay guys who looked hungrily after them as they passed on the sidewalk. Went to Lambda Rising, a gay and lesbian bookstore, browsed the postcards, Justin getting a few to give to the guys. Then they made their way to the Phillips Museum, wandering through the halls of the mansion looking at the permanent collection after having viewed the featured exhibition. Leaving there, they walked down Massachusetts along Embassy Row looking at the stately residences that lined the street as they made a leisurely approach to the Textile Museum.

Justin laughed at some point.

”What?”

”Brian would have been museumed out by now.”

Xavier chuckled. That sounded like something Brian would say. And to see Justin laugh again, he would do almost anything. Except maybe give him up.

As it didn’t take long for them to view the works on display at the museum, they had time to continue their tour of the embassies in the neighborhood until they reached the Glover Bridge and the Rock Creek Park area.

By the time they got back to the Dupont Circle Metro station, it was five o’clock and they joined the throng of commuters heading home. Luckily, Xavier lived off of the red line so they wouldn’t have to change trains. They waited until two seats opened up and settled in for the ride from the west side to the east side of DC.

”It’s a different world over there,” Xavier warned.

As they got off the metro at Rhode Island and walked down the avenue, Justin, instinctively, drew closer to Xavier. It wasn’t that he felt afraid as much as he felt unwelcome and unwanted. It was a poor area yet, despite the poverty, some of the houses looked well cared for, the lawns neat and tidy as Deb would say.

The sight of Xavier’s building took him aback. “I thought you said it was an old building?”

”It is. They renovated.”

”It looks better than our building from the outside.”

Xavier grinned. “Come on in.” On the way up to his apartment, Xavier explained how some of the residents had banded together to try and change things about ten years ago. They’d fought to get the city involved, to make policy makers aware of the problems the housing project faced on a daily basis: poor management and high crime. With help from professors at a local university, clergymen in the area, and the city government, the housing project got a new lease on life. Grant money poured in to help clean up the area, to renovate the building, and to start a new computer training program in a newly built community center on the premises. “All the apartments are wired,” Xavier explained, “and everybody has a computer. My grandma even has email.” He unlocked the door. “This is it.”

The apartment wasn’t fancy like the loft but it looked lived in and comfortable like Deb’s house or Mel and Lindsay’s place. Justin had tried to introduce some softer elements into the loft but the overriding style of the place continued to defeat him. Not that he didn’t love the loft because he did, he just sometimes wished it was more homey. “I like it,” he said.

”Want something to drink?”

”Nah.”

”We can hang in my crib,” he said grinning. “Nana Rose won’t be home for another half hour.”

Justin lifted an eyebrow. “A whole half hour?”

”Uh-huh.”

”Lead the way.” He didn’t see much of the room as the moment they stepped over the threshold, Xavier closed the door, cut on the television, and they fell onto the bed kissing, making up for lost time. Even though they had a little time, they didn’t do anything more than kiss, not wanting to get started only to have to stop when Nana Rose made her appearance. Although it was tempting to try to sneak in a blow job or two. Feeling his own cock harden, Justin pushed Xavier away and sat up on the bed. “Later.”

Xavier exhaled noisily and shook his head, then leaned over and said against Justin’s neck, “Maybe I can get Nana Rose to let you spend the night.” Kissed him behind the ear.

”I don’t have any clothes or anything,” Justin pointed out.

”Won’t need em,” Xavier explained.

Justin kissed him softly. “So smart.” Found himself lying back on the bed again while Xavier made his way down his neck. Then Xavier jerked away.

”Nana Rose.”

Concentrating on getting his breathing under control and trying to will his hard-on to disappear, Justin hoped Xavier’s grandma didn’t notice anything. He heard her calling.

”Xavier! You home?”

Xavier opened the door. “In here, Nana.”

She appeared, a slender, tall woman, just a little shorter than Xavier, with his complexion and eyes, and graying brownish black hair in twists and tied in a scarf. To Justin, she looked about Debbie’s age, not old enough at all to have a grandson in college. “Well,” she said smiling, “I bet this is Justin.”

He stood. “Yes, ma’am.”

”You and this no count grandson of mine been having fun?”

He hoped he wasn't blushing. ”Yes, ma’am.”

”Ya’ll eat yet?”

”Nope,” said Xavier.

She folded her arms. “Waiting for me to come home and cook something, I suppose.”

”Yep.”

”Lazy. And after I been working all day long, hard as a dog.”

Xavier laughed. After a moment so did she. He kissed her. “You promised.”

”Get on way from here, boy.”

”I got all the stuff from the grocery store this morning.”

She sighed. “Let me get out of these clothes and I’ll see what I can do.” Turning, Rose paused. “It would help if certain lazy behind boys cut up the vegetables and chicken for me.”

Tugging on Justin’s arm, Xavier said, “Come on.”

”What’s she fixing?”

”West Indian curry chicken.”

While Rose changed clothes, Xavier and Justin peeled potatoes and cut them up along with the red pepper and onions and chicken. By the time she’d put on a pair of drawstring pants and a tee-shirt, they had everything chopped and ready for her expert hand. Xavier had even put on the rice.

Justin watched as she coated the chicken with salt and pepper and curry powder, then heated some oil and curry powder in a cast iron pot until the oil started to smoke. She tossed in the chicken and cooked it until it was brown on all sides, then added in the vegetables and browned them a little before pouring a cup of water over everything and covering the pot. “You like to cook, baby?” she asked.

”Yes, ma’am.”

She indicated Xavier with her head, “Maybe you ought to try and do something about your lazy friend over there.”

”Nana, why you always raggin’ on me?”

Smiling, she said, “Cause I can.” Laughed.

By the time dinner was over Justin was in love with Rose. She was nothing like his grandparents except for his drunken grandmother who was a lot of fun- - after a couple of martinis. Nana Rose reminded him of Deb, years of hard living having taught her the value of a good laugh, and she had a heart as big as Deb’s too. You only had to look at Xavier looking at her to see how much he loved her and Rose’s love for him was like a glaze over everything she said or did. Coming up behind the two of them washing dishes, she ran her hand over Xavier’s hair. “You need to redo that before it starts looking wild. Scare Justin away.”

”You’ll do it for me tomorrow?”

”Do it yourself,” she replied. “Who did it while you were away?”

Justin answered, “He did. I watched him once.”

”See there. Lazy boy.” Leaving them, she went and put on some music, propped her feet up, and sighed.

Taking the opportunity her absence afforded, Xavier kissed Justin. “She likes you.”

”I like her too. Does she know?”

”I don’t know. She can keep a secret better than anybody and she sees everything.”

”Then she probably knows. Deb says I can’t hide anything.” Smiling, Xavier kissed him and they put down the dishes for a moment to take care of more pressing needs.

”Ya’ll are slow as Methuselah,” Rose yelled and Xavier laughed.

”She knows.”

They came in looking rather sheepish after they’d finished the dishes. “Well?” she asked.

Still Xavier was going to make her work for it. “Well, what?”

”You gone tell me what’s going on?”

”Nothing.”

”Xavier Alexander Robinson, you gone stand there and lie to me like I can’t see what’s right in front of my face?” Justin, casually he hoped, placed his hands in front of his crotch. “Now, stop acting foolish and tell me what’s what.” But before he could begin, she added, “And explain to me why you’re messing around with someone with a ring on his finger.”

”Nana- -“

”Don’t Nana me.”

Justin interrupted. “It’s my fault.’

”I didn’t ask who was at fault, I asked what’s going on.”

”I love him,” said Xavier and it was the first time he’d actually admitted to her that he was gay. Even with Tony, he'd stopped short of saying that he'd loved the boy even though any fool could have seen that he had. In his own way. But this was different. These feelings he had for Justin demanded he tell the truth.

Inside Rose wanted to cry but on the outside she gave nothing away. Xavier needed her and she couldn't let him down even though she knew he was in for nothing but trouble. Not just because he was gay but because he was a black boy in love with a white boy and that wouldn't be easy. Especially being in love with this one. She motioned to the ring he wore. “And what’s that?”

”Brian gave it to me.” He paused. “He’s my partner.”

"Another boy at the school?"

"No. He's an advertising executive."

She paused. "How old is this man?"

Used to the reaction, Justin replied, "Thirty."

"Jee-sus." She sighed. ”Then what are you doing here with Xavier?”

”I love him.”

”And that ring doesn’t mean anything?”

”No, it does. I just- -“

”Baby, listen to me, do you love that man? The one that gave you that ring?”

With all of his heart. “Yes, ma’am.”

”But you’re here with my grandson.”

”It’s complicated.” Jesus, that was an understatement.

”Worse than the stories,” she commented. “Now, all I’m gone say about this is you better know what you’re doing.”

”But I don’t,” he confessed. “I don’t know anything except that. . . I love them both.”

”Lord have mercy.” She turned to Xavier. “You going back to school or are you gone stay here and bum around?”

”I’m going back.”

”Your doing,” she said to Justin.

And Justin added, "He's the best student in school. I couldn't let him quit because of me."

“Well. . . that's something, I suppose.“

Xavier sat next to her. “Nana, don’t be mad.”

”I’m not mad, Xavier. I’m just. . . I worry about you, child. And this. . . baby, someone’s gone get hurt. Most likely all of you. Is it worth it?”

His eyes on Justin, he told her, “I love him, Nana.”

Rose cupped his cheek, soft skin beneath her fingers. There was so much of his mama in him that, at times, she looked at him and saw Alexandria instead. Male, female, it didn’t matter cause here he was, just like his mama, in love with the wrong person and to hell with everything else. She just hoped he did better than Alexandria had but there was nothing she could tell him, nothing she could say to convince him not to go for what his heart told him he needed most in this world: Justin. Looking at Justin, she knew her grandbaby hadn’t had a choice, the boy was everything Xavier could have asked for; how could he have said no? ”What am I gone do with you, boy?”

And Xavier grinned. She always asked him that when she was most exasperated with and tickled by him. He stood and pulled on her hand. “Dance with me, Nana.”

She waved him away. “Go on.”

But he wouldn’t give up. “Come on, Nana. Don’t play me like that.”

Finally she relented and danced with him. After a moment Justin joined in. He never could resist good music. Rose watched him and laughed. “You go, baby.” Then nudged Xavier, “Look at him. You sure there ain’t some- -“

”Nana!”

She checked out Justin’s behind and shook her head. “All I’m saying is the butt don’t lie.”

”So wrong.” 

 

Eventually an eight and a half hour work day caught up with Rose and she begged off from further dancing. "You two gone wear me out." She flopped down on the couch. "How about you all dance and I'll watch."

At first Xavier felt awkward about dancing with Justin in front of his nana but, gradually, he loosened up and then he and Justin put on a show and a half. Careful to keep it PG, the two teens went through their best moves while Rose chanted, "Go, Xavier; go, Justin. . ." Just like they had at Justin's birthday party, the two turned the place out- - even if it was only the livingroom and their only audience Xavier's grandmother. For a while she forgot her worries and just enjoyed watching them, their love for each other evident. But every now and again Justin's ring would flash and she'd remember that there was another man involved whom she had never met, waiting in Pittsburgh for his partner to return home.

She knew all about partners, there was a gay man in her office who had a partner but she found it hard to believe that Justin, at nineteen, had not only a partner but a partner who was thirty-years-old. Once Justin had said that she remembered Xavier coming home at Christmas and mentioning his friend and the trial. A baseball bat to the head. Good Lord, some people. . . But Xavier hadn't said anything that would have lead her to believe that he had feelings for Justin. She'd assumed his experience with Tony had been enough but, truthfully, she'd hoped it had been enough because it was a hard row to hoe. Hard enough being a black male without being gay too. But she couldn't wish him to be any other way than how he was because he was special. She'd known that the first time he'd given her one of his drawings. Wasn't nothing but a little bitty thing, pencil almost bigger than he was, and he'd drawn his nana a picture of one of the neighborhood cats. Four-years-old and that picture had been better than what kids five years older than him could have drawn.

After his mama had died, she'd taken him in and raised him up, all the while hoping she could keep him safe long enough to send him away to art school, long enough to give him a chance at something better. That mess with Tony had almost killed him too, along with his friend, but he'd survived. Because of the art. Now along comes Justin with his pretty blue eyes and a smile that could light up a room and Xavier was lost again. Only, she had a feeling she could depend on Justin to do what was right for Xavier. After all, he'd come to DC to get his friend to go back to school, and not just because he loved him but because Xavier was good.

Rose smiled at the way they touched, drawn to one another despite having a spectator, and then moved apart when they remembered she was there. "That's all right," she assured them as she got up, "I'm going online for a while, watch a little TV, and then I'm taking my tired behind to bed. Ya'll can do whatever you want."

Xavier motioned for Justin to give him a moment alone with Rose so Justin pretended to have a sudden interest in the meager library occupying one bookcase in the corner. "Nana, is it okay if Justin stays the night?"

"You want me to let you two shack up in my house? And him married too? Or close enough to being married."

"Nana, please. I don't know what's gone happen once school starts again. This might be our only chance to be together."

She never could refuse him anything. "All I know is you better act like you got some sense. I hear any shouting tonight, I'm coming in there with the fire extinguisher."

Laughing, Xavier kissed her. "You a mess, Nana."

"Uh-huh. Just better remember that." Called to the other one, "I know you heard me too so I won't have to repeat myself."

Justin blushed. "Thanks, Nana Rose."

"Don't try and sweet talk me. One sweet talker in the house is already one too many." But she smiled and they all knew she was just kidding. Taking a chance, Justin came over and kissed her too. She shook her head, pleased despite herself. "Now ain't that a blip. Get on way from me. Both of you," and she sauntered off to her bedroom. 

 

Beginning at the tip, Justin used the fine teeth of the comb to unravel the first braid. Although Xavier had told him he didn’t have to be gentle cause he wasn’t when he did it himself, Justin used a light hand with the comb until the end was undone. Then he abandoned the comb and worked the rest of the plait loose with his fingers. Xavier’s hair was so thick, so soft. After he’d undone all of the braids, he buried his face in his lover’s hair and inhaled the scent of the oil Xavier had used. It smelt of peppermint and refreshed him.

Xaiver had been sitting on the floor at Justin’s feet. Now he turned and rose up, eased Justin back on the bed and straddled him. They were both hard already. He ground his crotch against Justin’s, kissed him deeply.

Justin sighed. Only Brian could get him as hard as fast, the difference being that Brian would cork his desire and shake it until he was nearly out of his mind before freeing him while Xavier, being a teenager too, was in favor of a quick release.

Working out of their clothes, they came together once more and Justin already had the condom in hand and was unrolling it over Xavier’s cock while the other teen was reaching for the lube.

As Xavier pushed inside him, Justin clenched his teeth and turned his head away, twisting back when Xavier’s lips sought out his. They joined in a kiss and Justin moaned inside Xavier’s mouth feeling his cock pulsing deep within. 

 

It was eleven fifty and Justin still hadn’t called. He’d waited all evening for the phone to ring telling himself that Justin was probably out having dinner with Xavier, refusing to imagine the worse. And yet the images came unbidden. Justin and Xavier

_fucking in bed, dark and light bodies entwined._

 

 

(Please note: Normally Spring Break wouldn't come so early but in order to fit everything in, I had to play with the schedule. Also note, the events in the story would realistically occur over a much longer period of time but have been compressed to fit into the timeline for the entire Fantasy Season Three series.)

 

Sunday mornings in bed were the best. Lying on top of Brian, Justin imagined that he was stretched out on a beach in Greece, Mediterranean sun caressing his naked body, toes trailing in the surf, the nibble of a wave causing him to shiver deliciously.

Brian's fingers tiptoed down his spine to the bubbling sound of laughter.

"Do you think we'll ever get tired of having sex?" Justin asked as Brian cupped his buttock, thumb rubbing the crevice of his ass.

Brian raised a brow, then together they answered, "No," and laughed so hard Justin almost spilled from his perch. But he held on, gripping the larger man with thighs and arms the way a shipwrecked sailor might clutch a lifeboat. Then, like a raft rising and falling upon the swells of a wave, Brian began to undulate beneath him. 

 

The shower pelted their skin sluicing away the worst of the exhaustion. For the longest time they didn't wash at all, just stood, or rather slumped against the walls of the shower, and let the water massage their tired muscles. Finally Brian grabbed the soap and began running it all over his baby's skin, leaving a trail. "Mmmm. . ." Justin breathed as Brian gave him a thorough washing, even cleaning his hole, gently rotating the bar of soap against the tender ring of muscle until its folds were white again, this time with suds instead of cum. Easing a finger inside him, Brian said, "I think it's time for a deep cleansing," and Justin moaned.

They didn't do this often as the metal attachment and the water had the potential to irritate the lining of his bowels but sometimes, especially after he'd been stretched wide open, he liked to feel the sleek, cool head slide into him, and the water actually soothed him after a long, hard fuck like this morning.

Brian screwed the phallic-shaped attachment onto the hose and adjusted the temperature of the water. Hands braced against the wall, eyes closed, Justin waited. Spreading him open, Brian sprayed his rosy pucker with lukewarm water, testing his response. "Perfect," the boy said, voice already husky. Then the tip touched him and he jumped a little.

"Hurt?"

"Uh-uh." The water buffeted his hole without entering him, ran down his inner thighs.

"Ready?"

He nodded, too excited to speak. This was going to be so- - "Oh!" The shower head parted the folds of his asshole and slipped inside with no trouble at all, filling him with warm water. Almost immediately Brian removed the head and let the water run out. Justin felt slick down there, flushed. Brian pushed the slender wand back inside him, twisting it slightly as he buried it almost to the base. Tongue peeking from between his lips, Justin fought back a cry, then surrendered. "Oh God!" he hissed and the attachment slid free but the water stayed inside him. Brian had pressed his finger over his hole, then into his hole, plugging him up. He kissed his shoulders while Justin shuddered and jerked. At last, before Justin's stomach began to cramp, he released the floodgates. Warm water flowed over Brian's fingers like piss, turning them both on immensely. They'd yet to experiment with water sports but neither one of them believed it was too far off. Some day one of them would suggest it and the other would agree and Justin only wondered who'd be straddling whom. First.

His thoughts were interrupted by the steel cylinder entering him again and this time before Brian withdrew he whispered, "Hold it."

Just two words but they sent chills down Justin's spine. As the tip slipped free of him, he squeezed his cheeks together, keeping the water inside him. Letting the hose swing free, Brian placed both hands on his ass and stroked his plump buttocks. Kissed his neck and jaw. "Baby. . ." He took hold of his cock, which was stiffening, and rubbed it over Justin's ass. Rubbed it along the divide, daring Justin to respond, to unclench his muscles and release the water before he was given permission. Justin endured it, catching his breath a couple times when he almost let go. Then Brian reached around for his cock.

"No!"

"You don't want me to touch your cock?"

"No."

So instead he stroked the boy's nipples, his belly, his back and sides. And talked. "Slide my fingers up and down your hard dick, over that big vein that runs along the side."

Justin felt his dick twitch. It was rising up between his legs, had been every since Brian had first opened him up with that shower head.

"Every time I suck you off, I can feel it pulse inside my mouth. I wish I were blowing you right now. Like this morning when I had you on your back screaming- -"

Justin trembled, stomach muscles rippling. "Stop it."

"'Don't stop.'" Brushing his lips over Justin's back, Brian whispered, "Sucking you dry. . . "

A shiver went all through Justin. "I can't hold it."

Brian stood to the side of him and reached over, hands on his ass. "Let it go." A spurt escaped. "Push it, baby," he ordered, moving his hands on Justin's ass to control the direction of the flow. A stronger stream struck the glass wall of the shower as if Justin were pissing, only this time he was using his hole instead of his cock. Brian placed a hand in its path, water splashing his fingers. "Fuck," he uttered in awe, voice colored by lust. Justin pushed and pushed again, the stream ebbing and flowing until the last trickle wet his thighs and pooled at his feet.

Pulling on his cock, Brian jerked off, spraying Justin's ass with cum. Then, fingers sticky with his own spunk, he brought Justin off, the teen leaning back against him and moaning loudly as Brian wrung him dry, jizz sliding to the floor of the shower to run down the drain. 

 

Later, over breakfast, Brian asked, "Where'd you get this recipe from?" They were eating a frittata made with sausage and Pecorino Romano cheese.

"Martha Stewart dot com."

The older man snickered. "You're too much, you know that?"

"Too much to handle? Maybe you should get some help," Justin suggested.

"Didn't need any help this morning," Brian reminded him and Justin blushed. They hadn't gotten any more notes from the building superintendant about his yelling, not because he'd stopped but because the man had probably given up. He tried to hold it back every time and every time he ended up hoarse from screaming. It didn't matter if Brian was fucking him, sucking him, or getting fucked, when Justin neared his climax, he began to yell. Sometimes Brian would clamp a hand over his mouth or kiss him to silence the sound and other times the man seemed to take pride in hearing him scream his name. And it was true. He loved hearing Justin say his name, starting with a whisper, "Brian," building in volume and strength, "Brian, Brian," until the sound filled the apartment, "Brian!" The ad exec grinned. "I think I might have actually worn you out."

But Justin shook his head. "No way." Smiled. "But you'll have plenty of opportunities during Spring Break. A whole week at home."

"You've got a whole week at home," Brian reminded him. "I've got to work."

"You could take one day off, couldn't you? Maybe Friday. We'd have a three day weekend, at least."

Not promising anything, Brian said, "I'll see." Paused. "You sure you don't want to go anywhere?"

"Without you?" Brian nodded. "How would that be fun?"

He shrugged. "Go to the beach, hang out, party. That's what teenagers do, I'm told."

"Not this one." Justin got up and came and sat on Brian's lap. "This one has an old man to take care of and if he leaves him for a week, someone else'll be taking care of him when he gets back and he doesn't want that." He kissed Brian on the lips, tasting coffee and fennel from the sausage.

 

 

The week had passed without incident, most people busy trying to turn in last minute work before the break. He hadn't been spending much time with Xavier and Rennie beyond class and the occasional lunch as they'd all had projects to complete. Finally, on Friday, he realized that Xavier wasn't around. He went after his last class to peek in his friend's studio but someone had put up a piece of black construction paper over the window. Lots of people did that, for the privacy but Xavier and his studio partner hadn't seemed to care. He knocked but there was no answer. He wondered if Rennie was around and knew what was up.

She wasn't going home she'd told them cause she was sick of the beach having grown up in Del Mar, two minutes walking distance from the shore. She was going to stay in Pitts and take a four-day trip to New York with some of the women from her Feminist Art Club group.

He found her in her studio cleaning some brushes. "You seen Xavier?"

"He's gone," she said tightly.

Confused, Justin asked, "Without saying good-bye? Did he say when he was coming back?" Her attitude he didn't understand, but that was Rennie for you. Hot one moment and cold the next.

Rennie glared at him. "Asshole, he's gone. Okay? Gone, as in not coming back? Have a good life, hope to never see you again?"

"Gone?" he repeated stupidly. And he started to ask why but he knew why. Hence her attitude. Hence Xavier's secrecy about leaving. Without saying anything else, he turned to go but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Justin, I'm sorry. I know it's not your fault." She sat on a stool and brushed back her hair. It was already streaked with paint from where she'd pushed it back without paying any attention to what was on her fingers. "He just told me Wednesday."

"Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you try to stop him?" He was fighting to remain calm, not to yell at her, not to kick something.

"I did try to stop him. But it's like standing in the path of a tornado, you know?"

Did he. God, that sounded like Brian. He still remembered the time he'd thought Brian was going to move to New York and he had told Michael they needed to stop him and Michael had said, "Stop Brian? Right. Next we'll take on Starbucks."

Seeing the pain in his eyes, she said, "I know how you feel."

"No, you don't."

She laughed. "Guys." Shook her head. "You think you're so complicated, so inscrutable. Well, guess what? I knew he loved you way before he admitted it and I knew you loved him way before you came clean so don't tell me I don't know."

"He told you about that?"

Rennie put away her brushes. "We're friends." Twisted a sterling silver ring on her finger. "Maybe he'll come back. I don't know. But he seemed pretty final about it."

"But he said everything was all right," Justin said and even to him it sounded naive.

"What else could he have said to keep you from feeling guilty?"

He acknowledged the truth in her words. "Nothing. I wanted it to be over, to be resolved, and for us to go back to the way things had been." Exclaimed, "Fuck! Rennie, this isn't fair. He's good. He's the best student here and. . ." Helplessly, his words trailed off. "And I don't want him to go."

She shrugged. "Well, he's gone and there's nothing you can do." Before he could say anything, she told him, "We sat up late on Wednesday while he packed and talked about you. He really loves you, Justin."

"I know."

"Every time he saw you wearing Brian's ring, you might as well have jabbed him in the eye with a hot poker."

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked exasperated.

"I'm just telling you what he told me." She waited. "If you weren't with Brian. . ."

"I'd be with him," he answered quietly. "But I am with Brian."

Sliding off the stool, Rennie picked up a finished painting, wrapped in a white cloth. "I gotta take this to Carmichael. Slave driver said the last one wasn't good enough." He held the door open for her. "I'll see you next week when I get back. Later, Boy Wonder."

"Later." Closing the door to her studio, he walked down the hall to his own and sat inside hoping that something would come to him before he had to go home. He should have been glad. Should have been relieved that the problem had been solved. Xavier was gone, he could go on with his life, they both could. Only Xavier was being short-changed because he'd left the Institute. But that wasn't his problem. He wasn't Xavier's keeper, just his friend. Just the reason he's fucking up his life, he told himself bitterly.

He sat inside the studio until the sun dropped down in the sky. Thought about all the times he'd be working to try and forget some spat he and Brian had had and Xavier and Rennie would show up and drag him off to eat and they'd laugh for an hour or so and when he returned to work, he'd actually be looking forward to finding Brian at home and making up. All the times he and Xavier would sit and talk about some artist they'd studied in class or seen at the museum, Xavier able to see something different than him, each of their views enhancing the other's and he'd go back to the loft and impress his lover with his learned views, never letting on that some of them weren't his own.

At last, unable to put it off any longer, he grabbed his stuff to meet Brian. 

 

The ad exec was waiting for him at the diner along with the guys. Kissing hello, he slid into the booth next to his partner. Michael was alone, seated on the end. "Where's Jeff?" he asked.

"Working on some fucking story."

"Well, that's what reporters do," Ted explained earning him a cutting look from Michael.

"So," Emmett began, "you headed for Fort Lauderdale or Daytona Beach for Spring Break to scope out the hot, young, hunky frat boys?"

"Nope." He opened his menu.

"Staying home with hubby, huh?" Said dryly, "How excit-ting. Spring Break at the retirement home."

Brian growled, "Fuck you."

"Save your strength for the Boy Wonder."

Ted laughed. "So what about your little friends? Xavier staying?"

"I hope so," Emmett said, "he's a hottie. Maybe I could persuade him to accompany me to Babylon. If only I were into twinks."

"Way I hear it, usually they are into you. As in inside," Brian commented.

"Wait, did I hear something?" Emmett asked. "Um, and who was it yelling, 'Fuck me, baby, fuck me,' the other night when we stopped by to see if you guys wanted to go to Woody's? Hmm?"

Brian turned about ten different shades of red. Fuck, he'd completely lost control that night. With E coursing through his veins, warming lube and Justin's dick up his ass, and a vibrating latex hood slipped over his cock, he hadn't been able to keep from shouting. Maybe they did need to soundproof the loft.

"So that's why your ass is looking so plump these days," Deb added as she brought over a glass of water for Justin and the guys howled.

Wisely realizing that anything he said would only serve to acerbate the problem, he kept quiet.

"Not a peep?" asked Deb.

And Ted said, "He's worn out from all that yelling. 'Oh yeah, baby. Harder, fuck me harder.' "

Flipping Ted the bird, Brian decided to turn the tables on them. "With a cock like his," he began, "you better believe I ride it. Like a fuckin' Harley," and he kissed Justin so long and hard that the teen felt himself getting excited.

"Gonna demonstrate for us, right here?" asked Michael.

"You should be so lucky," Brian replied, cupping Justin's dick through his jeans. "Save that for later."

Silently, Justin hoped that he'd still be in the mood later. After his news. 

 

All day he’d been thinking about this moment, coming home and being alone with Justin, being able to slough off the day and relax, holding his baby in his arms. As soon as they passed through the threshold he was already in bed mentally. Just a matter of locking the door and walking across the room.

”Brian?”

”Hm?” He set the alarm and headed for the bedroom, certain Justin was following. Once up the stairs, he shucked his jacket and went to hang it up, reaching for Justin’s as well. That’s when he noticed the teen’s face. “What’s wrong?”

”I need to talk to you.”

Returning from the closet, Brian sat on the bed and waited.

”I want to go away for Spring Break.”

”I thought you said- -“

”I changed my mind.”

”Why?”

”Something came up.”

He could imagine. “Xavier?”

Missing the warning in his voice, Justin said, “He’s gone.”

”What? Home? So what?”

”I mean for good.”

And that explained it, the mood he’d been in all through dinner. Instead of responding right away, Brian began practicing his anger management exercises because he knew he was going to need them. After a couple deep breaths, he asked, “And what do you think you can do?”

”Change his mind.”

”Why’d he leave?” even though he knew why. That was fucking obvious.

”Brian- -“

”Why? Because you didn’t choose him?”

”Maybe.”

”Fuck maybe. We all know that’s the reason. So what are you gonna do? What are you gonna offer him to make him come back? Give him your Resident Evil video game?”

”He’s throwing away his life! He was meant to be an artist.” Justin knew he was stalling for time and he knew it wouldn’t work, knew Brian was about five seconds away from a major meltdown.

”I asked you what do you think it’d take for him to come back?”

”I don’t know.”

Standing, Brian said, “You need to come up with a better lie.” He strode from the room, Justin down behind him.

”Brian- -“

He turned, furious. ”So I’m just supposed to stand back and watch you go after him, after a man that loves you, a man that you- -“ A man that you love. He couldn’t say it. Stopped and scratched the back of his head.

Justin trembled. “Don’t,” he pleaded, Don't say it.

”You telling me it’s not true?”

”He’s my friend.”

But that wasn’t all. He knew Justin was lying to him, the same way he’d known Cam was lying to him each time he’d tell him, ’Never again. It won’t happen again. I promise. I promise, baby, it won’t happen again.’ Only this time he was wearing a ring instead of a bracelet and the stakes were higher because he really didn’t know how he’d be able to go on without Justin. “Don’t fucking lie to me,” he told him. “No matter how much you think it’ll hurt me, it’ll hurt worse- -“

”I’m not!”

”Listen to me.” Brian fixed his hazel eyes on Justin, the green so prominent now that they looked mossy. “This isn’t a game. We fuck this up, that’s it. So you tell me, one way or the other.”

Justin took hold of Brian’s hand. “I love you. Always. Nothing's gonna change that. I swear it.” His eyes were shiny with unshed tears. It wouldn’t be long before his cheeks would be streaked.

Brian didn’t bother to point out that Justin hadn’t said that he didn’t love Xavier. That distinction hadn’t escaped him but he was too tired to bring it up and in the end what did it matter anyway? He wouldn't forbid him to go, couldn't. Softly, he asked, “When do you want to leave?”

”Sunday.”

He nodded, already watching Justin walk away in his mind. “For how long?”

”Thursday or Friday.”

"Just to talk to Xavier?"

"I thought I'd go to the museums too," Justin explained, hoping that Brian would accept that reason more easily than the other.

”Call Leo,” their travel agent, “in the morning. See what he can do.” He started back to the bedroom and Justin came with him but he said, “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

Justin stopped. “Brian. . .”

He paused, not wanting to deal with anything else tonight.

”Thanks.”

”Yeah.” He undressed and went to bed but he didn’t sleep, he just lay there stunned. What the fuck had happened? How’d he lose total fucking control of everything? He went over it in his head and he couldn’t figure it out, when it had happened, when things had changed. Time after time, despite what his gut had told him, he’d ignored the situation and gone on telling himself that everything would be all right. Well, everything wasn’t all right. Justin was about to go after Xavier and he was going to do what? Wait for him to come back and tell him they were through? Squeezing his eyes shut, he refused to give into the fear but he could feel it inching up his body to grip his heart anyway.

What was he doing? The man he’d sworn to spend the rest of his life with was lying in there wondering if they still had a life together and he was online looking at hotels in the DC area and trying to figure out where to stay and what to do while he was in the city. But what could he say to Brian to make him believe in him? Did he even deserve Brian’s trust? He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that he’d rather cut his own throat than hurt Brian but what was he doing except hurting him? You know what the solution is, he told himself. Don’t go. Stay home and mend things with Brian. Let Xavier take care of himself. But Xavier needed him and Brian would be right here when he got back. You sure?

Shutting down the computer, Justin went to the bedroom and stripped. Got under the covers and slid across the sheet until he was right behind his lover. Wrapped his arm around him and pressed his face against his back. “I love you,” he said again not certain if Brian had heard him or not. And then he felt the older man move and soon Brian’s fingers were entwined with his own.

 

 

Having left Justin at home making arrangements for his trip, Brian schlepped down to the Institute for his appointment with Trevor. Intrigued by the man’s request to base a sculpture on him, Brian agreed to model for his project. What the hell, he’d had his clothes off more times in front of strangers than he could count. Besides, it might do his ego some good to actually have someone want him. Fuck. Don’t think about it, he ordered himself. Easier said than done.

Trevor watched him stride down the hall, long legs encased in black denim, leather clad arms swinging in time with his steps, eyes hidden by dark sunglasses, each movement as smooth as silk. He flowed across the floor. Trevor remembered seeing him in Babylon, every eye in the immediate area drawn to him, drawn to the shifting space between his slender thighs, to the gentle curve of hip and calf, the modest slope of his ass. He couldn’t wait to capture him on paper, and then in clay, and finally in stone but he wondered if anyone could ever truly be said to have captured Brian. He wondered if even Justin could lay claim to that. Despite the fact that they wore matching commitment rings, Brian seemed an untamable thing, a creature meant to stalk the wilds. A satyr or a. . . a faun. Yes! As Brian neared him, he ducked back into his office and opened a file cabinet filled with a tray of slides. Thumbed through them until he came to the section he wanted. Held one up to the light. Perfect.

”Prof?” Brian said, peeping in the door.

”Come on in,” he turned and said and, immediately, he was struck by the man’s beauty all over again.

Brian smiled at his obvious scrutiny and slipped off his sunglasses. It felt damn good to have someone want him. “We doing it in here?”

Praying that his face wasn’t flushed, Trevor laughed and pretended to ignore the more risqué implication of the double entendre. “Light’s bad.” Handed Brian the slide. “What do you think?”

A naked man sleeping. Strong thighs splayed open displaying his cock and balls. “I’d do him,” he replied.

” ‘Barberini’s Faun.’ Think you’d be up to something like that?”

”It’s already been done,” he pointed out.

”A reinterpretation,” said Trevor.

Brian shrugged, handed him back the slide. “You’re the artist, I’m just an ad exec.” 

 

As Brian started to remove his clothes in the studio, Trevor held a flesh-colored posing pouch out to him. "You want to use this?"

"As what? A slingshot?"

"O-kay." Trevor tossed it over his shoulder, got out his pad.

"Where do you want me?"

On your hands and knees, thought Trevor. Get real, Janson. This is Justin's lover. Remember him? Justin? One of your students? So take a deep breath and move on.

"Prof?" Brian had stripped down to nothing and was waiting for instructions. He seemed so at ease with his nudity it was a wonder he ever wore clothes.

Trevor, on the other hand, was anything but at ease. He could feel his own cock stirring inside his jeans and he was glad he'd worn the tight ones, maybe they'd keep him in line. He indicated a chair. Brian sat, legs spread, cock and balls hanging between his thighs. Perching on a stool, his sketch pad on the easel before him, Trevor suggested, "If you could lean back a little."

"No problem." He assumed the position. "This good for you?"

Forcing himself to look directly at Brian, at what the man was pretending to offer him, Trevor replied, "Perfect." 

 

It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected although just what he’d expected he’d be hard-pressed to explain. Maybe he hadn’t expected anything. He wasn’t sure. Having left Trevor’s studio feeling, at least, appreciated, he’d dreaded going home, seeing Justin’s bags packed for his trip; dreaded another confrontation or, worse, a continuation of the silence, of the not talking about what needed to be discussed. His fears and insecurities were palpable, there was no need to announce them but what to do about them, that was the issue. And nothing Justin could do short of not going to DC would do. In fact, Brian wasn’t certain if even that would take away the fear and anxiety because even if Justin didn’t go he’d still think about Xavier, still miss him, still. . . love him. That was the truth Brian and Justin were trying so damn hard not to reveal when it was right out in the open anyway.

So coming home to find a candlelit dinner waiting for him surprised him. Coming home to find Justin naked except for his blue, silk robe surprised and aroused him. Justin met and kissed him at the door. “Come on.”

He let Justin lead him to the bedroom and stood still while the teen stripped him and slipped his sheer, black robe over his shoulders. “I made lamb chops,” he said as they made their way to the dining table.

Brian poured the wine. “What’s the occasion?”

Stroking the man’s face in passing, on the way to the kitchen, Justin replied, “I’ll miss you.

"Help?” But Justin shook his head so Brian sat and sipped his wine.

"How’d it go?”

"Okay, I guess. Hard to tell. He didn’t say much beyond, 'Turn around,' or 'Move your cock to the right.' "

"You were naked?”

"Hanging free,” replied Brian, pleased that Justin seemed a little jealous. Thought he’d encourage it. “He wants to do a reinterpretation of some famous statue.” Pretended like he was trying to drudge up the name from the depths of his memory. “Barberini’s Faun, I think. Know it?”

Fuck yeah. Could see Brian sprawled out in front of him, legs spread wide open in invitation. It was amazing Trevor hadn’t fucked him right there on the floor of the studio. “I know it,” he said calmly, bringing in the salads and returning for the chops. No three- or four-course meal tonight, he wanted to eat and make love, preferably spending as little time on the former as possible and as much time on the latter as muscles would permit. Wine, salad, and chops, a pretty bare bones meal but it would do in a pinch. And they had the candlelight and Brian’s sheer robe, so it’d definitely do. It’d more than do. He'd bet almost anything that Trevor would give his right arm to be in his place right now.

"I'm gonna miss your cooking,” Brian admitted. With Justin out-of-town, he’d be back to take-out and the diner.

"That all?” Justin asked, big time fishing.

"And your off-key singing.”

Indignant, Justin said, “I do not sing off-key. That’s you and Michael.”

Brian thought about it. "Oh, yeah." Laughed. "Fuck. What were we thinking? A band?" Could see them playing and singing in Woody's that night they got rip-roaring drunk. "Shit, we were awful."

"Could have been a stripper," suggested Justin, remembering the slutty sweater Brian had worn to Into the Woods and the way it slipped down over his shoulder and the way everyone had stared at him like he was a dream come true.

"Can't dance," Brian admitted since enough people had told him he couldn't. Not well anyway.

"Better things to do with your hips," teased Justin and he lifted his foot and ran it up the inside of Brian's thigh, stroking the long muscle with his toe as he sipped from his wine glass. Brian reached down and tickled the sole and he giggled uncontrollably, nearly snorting Merlot out of his nose.

"Babies," declared Brian, shaking his head a little.

Twenty minutes later they were gently swaying to some singer whose CD came from Justin's part of the collection. Remake of a Depeche Mode song. Not bad. The words. . . well, they were a little disturbing. "vows are spoken/ to be broken/ feelings are intense/ words are trivial. . ."*

Fingers slipping between them, Justin untied the belt to Brian's robe. Untied his own, bodies fitting even closer together. Slid his hand inside the collar to caress Brian's neck. Drew the robe back over Brian's shoulder baring smooth skin, hard muscles.

"all i ever wanted/ all i ever needed/ is here in my arms. . ."

Soft lips kissed his throat, nuzzled among the knot of muscles in the center of his chest as he raked his fingers through Brian's hair, making it look even wilder than normal. He felt Brian's hand on his ass, his shoulder blade, holding him in place while the man lapped at his nipple. Christ. . .

And then they were on the sofa, him straddling Brian's hips, robes abandoned on the floor. The tip of his cock grazed Brian's belly as they kissed. He could feel Brian's dick against his inner thigh. Looking down into his lover's bright eyes, he lost himself in their hazel depths. Kissed Brian's raspberry-colored mouth. "I love you," he whispered. Kissed him again, sucking on the edge of Brian's top lip. Snaked his tongue inside his mouth for a quick taste which turned into a more thorough sampling as Brian cupped the back of his head. Moaned as his partner closed his lips around his tongue. Curled the tip and felt Brian's swipe the bottom of his. He got up from his knees, went into a crouch and continued to devour Brian's lips and tongue.

Feeling the first trickle of precum on his chest, Brian took hold of Justin's cock and rubbed it against his pecs, streaking his skin with silvery juice. Justin hissed and Brian smiled. Fingers around the swelling head, Brian brushed the tip right up against his nipple.

"God!" shouted Justin as the tight knob of flesh entered his hole. The sensation went right down his cock into his balls. Caused his other hole to clench tight.

Instead of penetrating him again, Brian rubbed the edge of Justin's cock head against his nipple, the tip of the nub abrasive against the teen's tender flesh. He knew Justin wouldn't be able to take much more, would want him to suck him soon. So he released him and sure enough Justin stood, his cock rampant and demanding attention. Hands around the teenager's thighs, Brian leaned his head forward and flicked his tongue over the dripping tip.

Justin sighed, eyelids fluttering. Another flick and a kiss. "Ah!" Brian's tongue caressed the underside of his cock head, slowly sliding back and forth over the rounded bottom. He couldn't hold back much longer, needed to thrust so badly.

Rotating his head leisurely, Brian took the entire cap into his mouth, hot flesh making its way over his lips to rest on his tongue. He sucked gently and felt the boy shiver in his arms. Pulled away. Took it in again, just as slowly, just the head, just a gentle suck and no more before pulling away once more. But this time Justin wasn't having it. Without even making sure that Brian's mouth was open, he pushed forward. Felt the satisfying touch of his lover's lips upon his skin as his cock blindly made its way inside. Head thrown back, eyes closed, panting, he fucked Brian's head with abandon. Thrusting and withdrawing with little finesse, just needing that movement, needing to feel his cock head drag against the roof of Brian's mouth, push against the soft tissue of his throat, dig into the insides of his cheeks.

Saliva ran down his throat, covered his lips, his nose and cheeks where Justin had pulled free and rubbed against his face in his fucking frenzy. The teen's cock was hard and hot and he moaned each time it sank into his mouth, into his throat. He'd given Justin complete control and the youth was aware that he could do anything to Brian and it aroused him even more, his tight balls slamming against Brian's chin with each thrust.

He pulled free and paused. Opened his eyes and looked down at Brian’s face, flushed with exertion and wet with saliva and sweat. Rubbed his cock over his swollen, red lips and received a lingering kiss that caused his hole to open again, precum surging over Brian’s tongue. Withdrew, a string of sticky juice stretching from the tip of his dick to Brian's lips. Justin smiled and stepped down from the couch. Left the room.

Brian rested his head against the back of the sofa. Tried to ignore his throbbing cock. Prayed that Justin had gone to get the lube. He closed his eyes. Kept them closed even as Justin returned and squatted between his thighs. Felt him slide a condom over his cock. Raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Standing, Justin turned away from him, wet his fingers with KY and then reached around and pushed them up into his hole. Brian’s stomach tightened at the sight of Justin’s anus opening around his fingers. The teen withdrew his fingers and backed up. One hand on Justin’s waist, the other around his cock, Brian waited for the luscious hole to descend upon him.

He reached behind him to grip the sofa, then lowered his ass onto Brian’s dick, inhaling sharply as he stretched around the latex-covered tube of flesh. Released his breath in a long, shuddering exhalation while Brian filled him. Coming to rest at the base, he sat there impaled, body adjusting once more to his lover's invasion.

Lube from Justin’s hole wet the hairs of his groin. Barely moving, he kissed Justin’s back and felt the boy tighten around him. “Oh, baby. . .” He wrapped his arms around the teenager and eased him back against his chest, still buried deep inside him.

Justin’s legs fell open and he moaned, his cock twitching and drooling. Throwing one arm around Brian’s neck, the other clenched across the back of the sofa, Justin slowly raised his hips. Uttered a strangled cry as Brian’s dick backed out of him. Fuck, it felt so good. Brian sliding in and out of him as he raised and lowered his ass onto the stiff cock. Clenching his muscles at the base of Brian’s erection and rotating his hips slightly. He could imagine how he looked, mouth open, whimpering as he forced Brian's meat in and out of his greedy hole.

”That’s it, baby,” whispered Brian, tweaking Justin’s left nipple as the teen rode his cock. Turning his head, he managed to latch onto the right one, tugging on the nipple ring before closing his lips around the entire areola and sucking the boy’s teat until Justin shook, asshole going into spasms around his dick.

Swallowing a cry, Justin ground his ass into Brian’s lap. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. Without even touching his own dick, he found himself so close to the edge that to come would be a welcome release. Gingerly, he touched his cock and pressed against the base of it, taking great gulps of air until the urge to ejaculate passed. Letting go, he allowed himself a momentary rest, his head supported by Brian’s arm.

As Justin had, Brian took a brief rest, ceasing all movement although his cock was still buried deep inside the teen and showed no signs of softening at all. But a breather was all he needed, all he wanted. After a few moments, he was eager to resume pumping, eager for Justin’s muscles to start gripping him again. Taking the boy’s cock in hand, Brian began fucking him once more, thrusting up into his tight hole.

Justin moaned as Brian’s cock explored his insides, pushing down against the dick as it entered him. He felt himself grow even harder in Brian’s hand, the head of his cock turning a fiery red as the blood rushed to the end. Grunting, he rocked against his man, driving his cock through his fist with each movement. Then, in an instant, he’d pulled free. Turned and knelt on the floor at Brian’s feet. Removed the condom from his lover's cock and stuffed it in his mouth. Devouring Brian as the man groaned and buckled on the seat above him.

”Fuck. Yeah. Oh! Oh, baby. . . Ohhhh,” he moaned feeling Justin’s throat close around his tender head.

Dragging Brian’s cock free, Justin tugged on it and was rewarded with a spurt that struck his forehead, dripping down across his eyelid. Another tug and his cheek was wet. He continued to pull on Brian’s dick until his skin was covered with jizz. Then, before he could lose it completely, he stood and jacked off in Brian’s face, giving him a generous cum bath. Balls empty, he fell into Brian’s arms and kissed him, tasting his cum on his lover’s lips, knowing that Brian was tasting his own as well. They kissed and licked and lapped one another’s face clean, loving this as much as the fucking beforehand.

Leaning his forehead against Brian’s, Justin smiled softly.

 

 

Despite having made love most of the previous night, listening to Justin cry out that he loved him with every breath, Brian watched the teen hand the gate agent his ticket with a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not caring who watched, they'd kissed by the window before Justin had to line up and he wished he'd kissed him a dozen times more. Just before releasing Justin, he'd given him a credit card saying, "Don't go crazy," and Justin had asked, What do you want me to bring you back?" but he hadn't been able to answer, he'd only been able to hold him that much longer. Forcing a smile, he returned Justin's wave just before he entered the boarding tunnel. That would take him to the airplane. That would carry him away. Brian turned and stared out of the window. Breathe, he told himself. He couldn't leave yet, he'd promised Justin that he would stay until the plane took off. So he crossed the waiting area and stood by the window nearest the plane. Twenty minutes later he watched the jet back away from the gate, take its place in line. That's all Justin could ask of him. Leaving his post, he walked to the opposite end of the terminal and exited to the parking garage. 

 

He wondered if Brian had waited until the plane left the gate. He'd been on the other side of the airplane and couldn't see. But if Brian had promised he would, he had. Checking his seatbelt to give himself something to do, he blinked back a tear. Looked out of the window to gain a little privacy. There was one other person in his row, a woman about his mom's age, with an empty seat between them. They'd probably both been praying no one would board at the last minute and when no one did, they'd smiled at one another guiltily. Now, he avoided her eyes. Didn't want anyone to see him cry. I'll be back, he told his missing lover. I promise.

 

 

Deb saw him coming, looking like twenty miles of bad road, and she wondered what'd happened. "Where's Sunshine?" she asked. The boys were having brunch and Justin was off for Spring Break, having taken off the week from work too, even though he probably shouldn't have.

"On his way to DC," he answered, taking one of the two seats at the end of the table.

"What?" She was confused. "I thought he was staying here."

Shook his head. "He's gone to see Xavier. Try and get him to come back to school."

"Wait," Michael asked, "Xavier left school?"

"Yeah." Picked up his menu. He could feel them all looking at him. Wondering. And he didn't feel like explaining anything, just wanted to eat and to forget that last week he and Justin had started their Sunday by making love and having frittata.

Just as he was about to ask another question, Emmett caught Michael's eye and indicated that he should just leave it alone. "Fuck that," Michael said. "Justin's gone after Xavier and you're sitting here wondering what to have for breakfast? What the hell is going on?"

"Maybe something that I can't do a good goddamn thing about," replied Brian in a low voice. He put down his menu. "Just coffee."

"Brian, honey," Deb began and then she shrugged and went to fill his order.

Em drummed his fingers on the table. "Sooo, Jeff, how's Channel 11's hottest reporter?"

"I don't know," he said, "let me call Leslie and find out."

Ted and Em laughed as did Michael but Brian hadn't looked up from the table top.

Returning with two of their orders, Deb set the food down in front of the boys and went back to get the rest. When everyone but Brian had a plate before him, she poured his coffee and waited to see if he'd changed his mind.

"Thanks." Sat staring down at the black liquid. Then picked up the sugar and poured in a generous amount. Stirred and took a cautious sip. Reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple bucks. Stood and headed out of the diner.

"Shit," she cursed and went after him. "Brian?" He paused. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"Maybe it was the coffee," he offered.

"Fuck that."

He got out his cigarettes, lit one. Took a deep drag. Started to speak, then found that he couldn't. Felt her come towards him and did nothing to escape from her when she took his arm.

"Brian. . . kiddo, whatever it is, you'll work it out."

Voice hoarse with emotion, he said, "It might be too late for that."

"It's never too late."

"He's gone and he says he'll be back but. . ."- - So did Cam- -"what if he doesn't? Then what?"

She made him look down at her. "If Sunshine says he'll be back, he'll be back. What the hell is going on?"

Not able to maintain eye contact, he glanced away, hid the motion behind another, taking a second draw on his cigarette. "He loves Xavier."

"They're friends."

He said nothing.

"No. Brian- -"

"He hasn't denied it. And I wouldn't believe him if he did." He puffed on the cigarette. Smiled. "I always figured I'd be just like my old man. Out carousing until I dropped dead." Shook his head. "Never thought I'd end up being just like my mom. Waiting to see if he's coming home or not."

 

 

The plane touched down at National and he got his bags in record time despite the extra security precautions. Made his way through the terminal to the metro station, bought a fare card and went up to the platform to wait for the next train into the city. He only had to go one stop to get to his hotel in Crystal City. He wondered why they called it that. Maybe Xavier would know.

There was the train.

Finding a seat, he thought about Xavier for the first time since his trip had begun. As impossible as it seemed, he hadn't thought about him at all during the flight, hadn't thought of his destination, had only thought of returning home when it was over, keeping his thoughts firmly focused on Brian. Now, they turned towards Xavier. He had his home number and address and, potentially, in a couple hours they could be standing face-to-face. What would he say to his friend?

The hotel was near the subway station, which was cool, no chance of getting lost then. He couldn't check-in yet but the concierge took his bags and he found a quiet place to call Brian on the cell.

The man picked up on the second ring. "You there?"

"Yeah."

"Good flight?"

"Short."

Silence.

"Talked to Xavier?"

"Not yet."

Silence.

"The guys asked about you."

Brian sounded so sad that Justin wanted to run back to the airport and board a plane and fly home right then and there. But he couldn't. There was still the matter of Xavier. "I miss you."

A pause.

"I miss you too, baby."

"Say it again."

"I miss you. I. . . I love you."

"I love you." He stood, holding onto the cell long after the connection had been severed. He'd call Brian again tonight after he'd seen Xavier. Thinking there was no point in putting it off any longer, he found Xavier's number and dialed it. Waited for someone to answer.

"Hello?"

A woman. An older woman. Xavier's grandmother probably.

"Hello. Is Xavier home?"

"Who's calling, please?"

"Justin."

"Hold on." He heard her put the phone down and call out, "Xavier! Xavier, it's for you."

Please, don't tell him who it is, he thought, or he won't come.

"Who is it?" he heard Xavier ask.

"If you come and answer it, you'll find out."

Justin nearly laughed. She sounded just like Xavier had described her. In a moment, the phone was picked up again.

"Hello?"

"Xavier. It's me." He waited.

"Yeah."

"I'm here. In DC."

"What?"

"In Crystal City. Can we meet somewhere?"

"You're in DC? Why?"

"I need to talk to you."

"No, you don't."

"Don't hang up!"

Silence.

"Xavier?"

"Yeah."

"Please. We need to talk."

A long pause. Then, "Where you staying?"

"Days Inn."

"I'll come there. Give me an hour."

"I'll meet you in the lobby. Later."

"Later, J."

Justin smiled. Things couldn't be that bad if Xavier could still call him J. He glanced at his watch. Only a half hour until check-in. Spotting the hotel restaurant, he went inside to have a cup of coffee. Maybe a pastry if they had it. 

 

Having checked-in, put away his clothes, and flipped through the channels on the TV a couple times without seeing anything, he hit the bathroom one last time and headed downstairs to wait for Xavier. During the elevator ride, he tried to collect his thoughts. What would he say to Xavier? What could he say without betraying him and Brian? Maybe he shouldn't have come, maybe he should have stayed home and put his own house in order. This thing between him and Xavier had damaged his relationship with Brian, any fool could see that. How much longer could he expect Brian to put up with this? Maybe it wouldn't take much longer. Either he'd succeed or fail on this trip and no matter what, that'd be the end of it, he swore to himself. And Brian. After all that Brian had done for him the man deserved more, better of him. He deserved nothing less than Justin's complete and utter devotion. It's what he'd sworn to Brian when they'd exchanged rings. It's what he wished for himself. So what about Xavier? Xavier is my friend, he told himself. That's all he ever can be. All he could allow him to be. So why don't you tell your heart that?

Within a few minutes of his arrival in the lobby, Justin spotted Xavier. Expecting no great change in Xavier, Justin was surprised to see that he, in fact, seemed quite different. Only he now knew that the face Xavier had shown him those last few weeks before Spring Break had been a mask. Xavier hadn’t been able to put his feelings for Justin aside. Had you? Still, one thing hadn’t changed, Xavier’s lazy walk. As he sauntered over, Justin smiled.

”Hey, J.”

”Hey.”

”We gone do this here?” Xavier asked, looking around at the clerks behind the reception desk and the hotel guests milling around.

”Too. . . public.”

”Your place?”

Justin took out his room key. “It’s on the eighth floor.”

In silence they rode the elevator, each struggling to formulate a game plan that would allow them to walk away from that room unscathed and yet they both knew it was not to be. No matter what happened, there were already scars.

Playing the perfect host, Justin offered Xavier a chair and something from the fridge. It was stocked with soda and bottled water. But Xavier refused.

”We hadn’t too long ate dinner. Just got back from church.”

”Your grandmother make you go?”

”I like going. The music mostly. It helps me forget.” Looked down at his hands. “For a little while.”

Justin sat on the edge of the bed. “Why’d you leave?”

”Come on, J,” Xavier said. “We’re too far along for that.”

”But you said- -“

”You believed me?” he asked.

But even Justin couldn’t own up to that lie. “I wanted to.”

”I wanted to mean it.” Shrugged. “Just couldn’t.”

”You can’t give up your dreams because of me.”

”I’ll go to the Art Institute of Washington. Over in Rosslyn.”

”You had a scholarship.”

”I’ll get another one. Besides, DC has better museums than Pittsburgh anyway. And it’s just as close to New York. Maybe a little closer. Plus I’d be near my grandmother.”

Angrily, Justin asked, “Then why’d you come to IFA in the first place? You could have saved yourself the trouble.”

”And you? Saved you from having to think about me, having to deal with me? Well, now I’m gone.” He stood. “You don’t have to mess with me anymore. It’s over. Brian won and you can go back and live happily ever after. I gave you that.”

”I don’t need your fuckin’ pity. Or your gifts. I came here because I felt bad, because I thought it was my fault that you left and I wanted to fix things.”

”Bullshit.” Xavier neared Justin. “You came here because you love me. Because you can’t get me out of your fuckin’ system. Because despite having the ring and the apartment and the great Brian fuckin’ Kinney, you want me. But I ain’t slinking around for you or anybody else. So take your punk ass home and mind your own goddamn business.”

”Fuck you!” shouted Justin.

Xavier whipped around. “Fuck yourself. You wanted Brian, you got him. So why ain’t you home with him, huh? I don’t need you running after me like some tired-assed bitch in heat.”

”Get out!”

Xavier shot over his shoulder, “Trying to.” Snatched open the door. “You go back home and play Lady of the Manor. DC ain’t no place for you, Sleeping Beauty.” He slammed the door as he left.

Justin nearly screamed. Then he got up and threw open the door and almost had a heart attack. Xavier was standing next to him. He hadn’t gone anywhere.

For a moment they stared at one another, then Xavier asked softly, “We gone fuck out here in the hallway or are you gonna ask me in again?”

Justin pulled him into the room and pushed him up against the door. They kissed hungrily, hands tearing at each other’s clothes which was difficult as they could barely force themselves to part, rubbing up against one another, cocks stiffening. Justin reached in and stroked Xavier’s dick, the head already moist. Ran his thumb over the tip and felt Xavier moan in his mouth. Somehow they made it to the bed and fell upon it. Xavier rolled Justin over onto his back and stripped his pants down to his ankles. Pulled Justin’s sneakers off and freed his legs from his jeans. Pushed his own pants down around his knees. “Open up,” he said but Justin shook his head.

”I’m not ready.”

”Shit, J,” groaned Xavier cause he was about to explode.

”It’s okay.” He eased Xavier back and curled over his groin. Licked the end of Xavier’s cock. Watched as the teen shivered. Kissed the head tasting precum. “Yes,” he breathed. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, Justin jacked Xavier as he sucked him off, filling his mouth with the other boy’s throbbing dick, feeling Xavier tremble as he fought to keep from coming but, in the end, he gave up and cried out as he blew his load, Justin's thick lips mid-shaft and still working him.

By the time Xavier had gotten his breath back, Justin had completely stripped. As he returned to Xavier’s side he noticed the strange look on his face. “What?”

”You’re so beautiful,” he said, shyly stroking Justin’s hip.

The blond leaned over and kissed Xavier’s cock. “You taste good.”

Embarrassed, Xavier laughed. “Justin!” Together they finished getting him undressed and lay together kissing.

”Now we can go real slow,” said Justin, kissing Xavier’s throat. His skin felt so smooth, even at four in the afternoon.

”I can’t stay all night.”

”I'll take what I can get. Still got all evening,” Justin said, sliding his hand down between Xavier’s thighs. Encircling his cock with thumb and finger. Gently, he stroked him, feeling the boy’s penis stir again. Leg thrown over Xavier’s hip, he pressed against the other teen as they kissed, his fingers still traipsing up and down his dick. His tongue discovered traces of spices in Xavier’s mouth, the remnants of an earlier meal. Fingers abandoning their work, he cupped his lover’s ass and pulled him closer, their hard-ons sliding against one another. Xavier hissed and tensed as Justin’s shaft stroked his, wet head bumping his belly. Blond hair brushed against black, one pair of plump balls pressed against another and the two teens moaned in each other’s mouth while rubbing their cocks together.

Breaking free, Justin twisted around and latched onto Xavier’s erection, drawing it almost all the way inside his mouth. So hard, head firm and dripping precum.

”Fuck,” whispered Xavier, buttocks tightening as Justin sucked his cock. His entire body tingled each time Justin’s tongue slid over the tip. He lifted his head and watched as the blond boy made a circuit of the cap of his cock, saliva and precum making his skin shine. Justin kissed his way down the shaft and nuzzled among his balls. He wanted to grab his cock and feed it to his lover, fill his throat with flesh and cum and, at the same time, he wanted to taste Justin, to satisfy his own hunger. Drawing Justin’s hips over his head, he raised up a little and licked a bead of precum from the tip of his dick, triggering a gush, and precum flowed over his lips. Opening his mouth, he let Justin slide inside.

Mouth stuffed with cock, Justin couldn’t speak but he groaned around the hard flesh as Xavier sucked him intensely, cheeks hollowed and tight around his shaft. His hole twitched, wanting to be touched, eaten, fucked. Letting Xavier slide free of his mouth, he lay with his face buried in the other boy’s crotch, enjoying the blow job he was receiving.

Xavier rolled them over, knelt over Justin and continued to suck him off, greedy for his cock. He licked down the shaft from the head to his balls and then stretched his lips around them as well. He could hear Justin moaning as he gnawed on him.

”Lick me,” Justin breathed.

Xavier encircled Justin’s nuts.

”No,” Justin told him and then opened his thighs wider, touching himself. “Down here.”

Releasing Justin, Xavier shifted positions, turned around so that he faced Justin. “You want me to lick your ass?”

”Yes.”

Despite wanting to do whatever it took to please Justin, Xavier couldn’t do it. He’d never done it to another person and he couldn’t see it, now even for Justin. “I can’t.”

”Please,” begged Justin but Xavier shook his head. Justin groaned, wanting it so badly it hurt.

Reaching for the lube Justin had brought with him, Xavier wet his fingers, then eased his finger between Justin’s cheeks. He brushed the tip over his hole. Justin gasped and Xavier could feel him pucker up and then relax. Again he touched the tight knot of flesh and again Justin responded. Teasing Justin for a few more seconds, he placed the tip of his finger against the center of his asshole and pushed.

”Oh. . . Yes!”

His finger passed through the first ring of muscle, then the second. He could feel the slick walls of Justin’s ass. Applying more pressure, he worked his finger in deeper to the satisfaction of his partner. Every time Justin moaned it made his cock harder and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d want his cock to be where his finger was now. He watched as Justin trembled, shuddering each time he moved his finger, and the sense of power he felt was like an aphrodisiac. He was doing that to Justin, him. Just by fingering him. Imagine what it would be like when he fucked him. And the thought made his dick throb. He needed to be in him.

Even though Xavier hadn’t rimmed him, Justin found himself writhing on the bed, hole filled with the other teen’s finger. Fighting the urge to scream. His cock was so hard all it’d take was the slightest effort to bring him off. Taking hold of the shaft, he pressed down, suppressed the desire to come. Whispered, “Fuck me.”

Finger slipping free, Xavier knelt and unrolled a condom over his dick, lubed it up. Justin raised his legs, let them fall over the other teen’s broad shoulders. Reached down and took hold of Xavier’s cock, guided him to his hole. As the head made contact he gasped and felt Xavier push forward, parting the folds.

It was where he’d wanted to be for so long that he paused, overcome, head lowered and eyes closed. And then he felt Justin’s hand on his face. Opening his eyes, he saw Justin smile and heard him say softly, “Come closer.”

Obeying his lover’s command, he slid all the way inside and paused again. Laid his head on Justin’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe he was so close to Justin, joined to him like this. If he could, he would have buried his balls inside him as well. He never wanted them to part and yet, the urge to withdraw was building, the urge to pump, to thrust. He backed out part way and lunged forward again.

The bed shook as they fucked, muscles straining as they strove to be closer.

He uttered something unintelligible, feeling Xavier’s cock slide in and out of him, feeling Xavier’s belly rub against his dick with each thrust. It wouldn’t be long, he couldn’t hold out much longer, could hear Xavier moaning, knew he was close too. Gripping Xavier, he groaned and came, cum splattering his partner’s stomach, cock sliding through jizz as it continued to spit.

With each spasm of Justin’s asshole, Xavier felt his control slipping away. Grunting against Justin’s shoulder, he gave himself over to his orgasm, balls slapping against his lover’s ass as he pumped mindlessly. 

 

"Where did these come from?" Justin asked Xavier, tracing his tattoos with his finger.

"Guy downtown did 'em," Xavier replied.

"No, I mean, the designs. Are they some kind of tribal symbols?"

Xavier shook his head. "I designed them."

"You?" Leaning over Xavier, Justin studied the other arm as well. "What do they mean?"

"They're symbols for Ogun."

Eyes widening momentarily, Justin said, "Like my statue," meaning the piece Xavier had made for his birthday.

Shyly, "Yeah."

"Why's he so important?"

And Xavier explained, "He's the god of creativity, and of artistry, and metal works."

Justin stroked Xavier's bicep. "You gave me a piece of you."

Pleased that Justin understood the importance of the gift, Xavier agreed. "I guess I did." 

 

Standing in the shadows of the office building that towered over the Metro station, Justin and Xavier kissed.

"Sure you gotta go?”

"My nana’ll be worried sick if I don’t.”

"Tell her you’re with me.”

Xavier laughed. “That’ll go over real well.” Popped Justin’s butt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

"Early. I want to go sightseeing.”

"Nine?”

Justin kissed him. “Here. At nine.”

One final peck on the lips. “Later, J.”

Justin wiggled his fingers the way Gus did when he said goodbye. All the way back to the room he smiled like a fool. Stepping onto the elevator, he punched ‘8’ and stepped back. There was a couple in there with him. The woman smiled. He returned it.

Pointing to his hand, she said, “That’s a beautiful ring. White gold?”

"No,” he replied, suddenly sobered, “platinum.”

Brian. 

 

At last the phone rang. His hand trembled slightly as he answered but he forced himself to speak in an even voice, without emotion. “Yeah.”

"Hey.”

"Hey yourself.” Waited.

"You eat yet?”

He had. “Diner with Mikey and Jeff. Fucking turkey meatloaf. I ate an entire roll of Tums afterwards and I can still taste the grease.”

Justin read the subtext: Come home. I need you. I miss you. “I had a chicken burrito at this cool restaurant not too far from the hotel.”

So he was gonna make him ask. “You see Xavier?”

"Yeah. He went with me.” After we made love for two hours. “He seems okay.”

Now that you’re there. “Did he say if he was coming back or not?” Are you?

"No. But I think he will.” Don’t ask me anymore.

I can’t ask, he thought. “Call tomorrow?”

"Late, okay?”

"Sure.” Waited.

"I love you.”

"I love you too.” Brian held the phone until he heard the click signaling that Justin was gone and he tried not to feel as if it was for forever. Putting down the receiver, he went to the counter and picked up the Beam, poured a shot into a glass and knocked it back. Debated having another and decided to quit while he was lucid and in control. I wonder if- - he began to ask himself and he clamped down on that thought. It would only drive him crazy. He had a joint left he remembered but decided against having it. Without Justin there to share it he’d have way too much, probably fall asleep with it in his mouth and burn the fuckin’ place down.

So he went to bed without the joint. Stripped completely and slid under the covers and tried to forget that he was sleeping alone but the bed was so fucking big and he was so fuckin’ lonely and horny, he missed his little boy, his baby. Curled on his side, facing away from Justin’s side of the bed, Brian closed his eyes and tried to pretend that he wasn’t alone, that Justin was behind him but he couldn’t hear him breathing and he couldn’t smell his scent and he didn’t feel Justin’s arm around him and that was what it took to start the tears to trickling and he lay there, angry and afraid, missing Justin so much that he thought he would go out of his mind. 

 

In the morning he got up and went to work without eating breakfast, miserable and tired from having too little sleep. No sooner had he stepped into the office when Cynthia appeared with his schedule for the day. Noticed the bags under his eyes. “Want some coffee?”

"Thanks.”

She left and returned with an extra large cup. “Someone’s missing Justin.” He cut his eyes at her. “How does he like DC?”

"He just got there," he snapped.

"Grouchy too. So when’s he coming back?”

Ignoring the question, he asked, “What do I have?” Not that he listened to her. His thoughts were on Justin.

"How about I come back after the coffee’s had a chance to work.” Closing the book, she went back to her desk, leaving him to brood over his cup of joe.

He checked his watch. Thought about calling Justin’s room but decided against it. Knowing Justin he was probably out already sight-seeing. He thought about their trip to the Bahamas and laughed. Justin had planned almost every moment of every day. But he’d enjoyed it. More than he would have alone. The teen had a sense of wonder that was infectious and, as much as he’d groused about the museums and the historical sites, he’d actually had fun. Would have liked to have gone with him to Washington too. Remember Europe? he reminded himself. You’ll have a whole month to tour the sites and your ass is going to be museumed out. He hoped.

 

 

He’d gotten to the Metro station a little early and stood waiting for Justin to appear. That morning as he’d gotten up, taking a quick shower before his grandmother rolled out of bed, he thought of the day ahead, of the week ahead and he’d never been happier in his life, not even when he’d learned he’d been accepted into IFA and gotten a scholarship. Even though that dream had sustained him for a long time, for a long, horrible time after Tony had been killed, it was nothing compared to Justin. Justin was better than that. He started humming one of his favorite songs.

Oh, oh/ I never felt this way/ How do you give me/ So much pleasure/ And cause me so much pain?/ And just when I think/ I've taken more than would a fool/ I start fallin'/ Back in love with you. . . **

Justin could hear him humming Alicia Keyes as he neared Xavier. He loved that song, loved listening to Xavier hum it. His voice was a little deeper than his and the way the notes rumbled from his chest made him feel tingly. There was no other way to describe it. Xavier turned just as he got close to him and smiled. “You’re here,” for want of anything better to say.

”Said I would be,” replied Xavier. “Where we going first?”

”I want to go to the National Mall, see the memorials and then go to the museums.”

Bobbing his head, Xavier said, “Sounds like a plan. You eat yet?”

”Yeah.”

”Better get a move on then.”

Following Xavier down the escalator, Justin knew he had a silly grin on his face but he couldn’t help it. They hadn’t even touched yet this morning and still he felt connected to Xavier. He couldn’t wait until they had a private moment together.

For his part, Xavier didn’t even feel the escalator steps beneath his feet. Didn’t hear the voices of the other commuters. Was only aware of the presence behind him, of Justin standing on the step above him. He wanted so badly to reach back and touch him but it really wasn’t necessary. They were together. No matter how long it lasted, for right now, for this moment, they were together.

Once they got inside the station, Xavier said, “We can either take the blue line all the way around to the Smithsonian or we can take the yellow line to L’Enfant Plaza and switch to the blue line.”

”Which is better?”

”It’s shorter to go yellow to blue. Plus, the train goes over the water and you can see the Potomac.”

”Cool," he said, bypassing the fare machines as he had bought a weekly pass in the airport Metro station when he’d first arrived.

They didn’t have to wait long for a train and Xavier made sure Justin got a window seat even though the train was full of people going to work as well as other tourists.

When they got to the Pentagon stop, Justin said, “It still seems so weird, that something like that could happen.” They both knew what he was talking about. The attack on September 11th.

”Yeah, my grandma went over and saw the hole. She said it was crazy. Hard to believe what you were looking at even though your eyes were telling you it had happened.”

Surreptitiously, Justin slipped his hand into Xavier’s for just a moment and he was reminded of Brian and, guiltily, let go. They’d celebrated Gus’ birthday not long after September 11th; he’d been at Mel and Lindsay’s with Brian and the guys watching Gus stuff cake up his nose. And afterwards they’d gone to an inn outside of town and spent the night celebrating the anniversary of the moment they’d met. Blinking rapidly, Justin fought back the tears. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t be with Xavier and think about Brian too. But he was wearing his ring, and the words inside were hot against his skin.

Knowing what he was probably thinking about, Xavier leaned against him and whispered, “If you want to go back. . .”

He shook his head. “No.” Forced a smile. “This is our time.” He took a furtive glance at the water as the train entered the tunnel on the DC side having been so preoccupied with the past that he hadn’t paid any attention to the river when they exited the tunnel on the Virginia side.

They got out at L’Enfant Plaza and changed to the blue line, rode to the next stop, and went out into the air once more. Justin stood for a moment looking around him at the National Mall: the Capitol Building on one end, the Washington Monument on the other, and the buildings of the Smithsonian along both sides. It was amazing. His parents had brought him to DC once when he was a little boy but he didn’t remember anything except for the pandas at the zoo. Turning away from the Capitol, the two teenagers walked past the last of the museums, crossed the street, and made their way over the lawn towards the Washington Monument. Justin craned his neck to see to the top.

”Wanna go up?”

There was already a line forming but they figured maybe it wouldn’t take too long. They stopped and scored two free tickets from the kiosk and then got in line. The monument wouldn’t open until ten but it was a good idea to line up now and just wait it out.

Luckily there weren't too many people in front of them and they were able to go up relatively soon after the park ranger opened up the building. They took the elevator up with a French family and Justin wanted to practice on them but was too shy, figuring they were probably very sophisticated Parisiennes who'd laugh at his accent despite having gotten straight A's in French in high school.

Five hundred feet off the ground in the observation area, they looked out of the windows on all four sides of the monument. To the north they saw the White House; to the east the Capitol Building and the Smithsonian; to the south they could see the Jefferson Memorial and beyond it, Reagan National Airport; and looking westward, they spotted the Lincoln Memorial, the Reflecting Pool, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and across the Potomac, Arlington National Cemetery. Amazing.

Although they would have liked to have spent more time at the top, they had a full day ahead of them, so they took the elevator back down to the base and walked over to and along the Reflecting Pool that ran in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Veering right, they walked along the edge of the Constitution Gardens and over to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. People were busy looking up a particular name among the thousands of names on the obsidian wall and in the directory that told them where each person was listed on the monument. Already there were a number of offerings placed along the base of the panels, left by friends of the dead and missing, soldiers who'd served with them, children who'd never known their fathers, women who'd lost husbands and sons. Justin's attention was arrested by a sketch someone had done of a child with the words, "Hi, Grandpa Joe," written underneath the portrait.  
"I read that the artist said she wanted the monument to look like a cut in the ground, to symbolize a hurt that can never quite heal," Xavier said.

"I can't believe she was only twenty-one-years-old." Justin looked one last time at the monument before they moved on. "You think we'll ever be that good?"

"Positive," replied Xavier. "Well," he joked, "maybe I will. I don't know about you."

"Shut up," Justin grinned.

From there they visited the Lincoln Memorial, standing transfixed before his statue as so many others had done over time, walking inside and reading the words he'd spoken over a hundred years ago, words that still inspired: "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal;" and "With malice toward none, with charity for all. . . "

"You see all the things they're saying about him now? How he believed black people were inferior to white people and that he didn't really think slavery was wrong?" Justin asked.

Xavier shrugged. "Good people make mistakes too, just like everybody else. You supposed to spit on the good a person does just because they're not perfect? What kind of sense does that make?" He studied the features of the slain president. "Besides, you can't ever know what's in a person's heart, not entirely."

When they got to the Jefferson Monument, both of them cracked up. "Now he was something else," Xavier said, shaking his head. "A fuckin' genius."

"And a fucking fuck machine," laughed Justin. "He was like the Brian Kinney of Colonial times."

"Hey," Xavier declared, "you write the Declaration of Independence, and design Monticello and the University of Virginia, and you can fuck whoever you want to too."

Justin grinned. "Already do."

"So wrong."

By the time they had done the monuments and walked along the tidal basin among the cherry trees that wouldn’t begin blossoming for another two weeks, the museums had opened. Justin was anxious to go to the Hirshhorn, as was Xavier, so they made their way back past all the other museums to get to it first. “This is my favorite place to go,” Xavier explained. “I could spend two hours in Twentieth Century Sculpture alone.”

Making their way up to the special exhibits first, they viewed artwork by Neto and Westermann, marveling at the differences between the two artists and yet appreciating both. Justin was taken with the organic forms suggested by Neto's soft sculpture, comprised of fabric filled with billions of tiny styrofoam beads; while Xavier lost himself in the intricate boxes constructed by Westermann.

 

”I hate I missed the Munoz,” Xavier complained. “But my grandma came and bought the exhibition catalog for me as a Christmas present.”

”She must be really cool.”

”She’s all right.”

”More than all right," prodded Justin.

”Yeah,” Xavier admitted, “but don’t tell her that. Man, she is something else.”

”Like you?”

”Look who’s talking.”

Then Justin realized what Xavier had said. "You mean I get to meet her?"

"If you want."

Eyes brightening, Justin replied, "I want to."

They didn’t spend two hours in the Twentieth Century Sculpture section, but it did take them over an hour to make a circuit of the floor. Justin could see why Xavier had a love of the form and he could easily imagine his friend's/lover's work occupying a place of honor among the Picasso and Smith and Giacometti pieces someday.

As it was lunchtime, Xavier suggested they eat in the National Gallery of Art cafeteria and then do the exhibits there. Which sounded like a plan to Justin as the breakfast he’d eaten that morning had long disappeared.

They found a table in a relatively empty section of the dining room and sat down to eat their exorbitantly priced hamburgers and fries. But they didn’t care because the museum didn’t charge admission and it was worth the eight dollars each for lunch. “I’m kinda glad they don’t have stuff like this in Pitts,” he said carelessly.

”Why?”

”Cause I’d never get to see- -“ He stopped himself. Ate a fry.

”Never get to see Brian?”

Justin shook his head. “I promised that this would be our day.”

”I don’t expect you to forget about him.”

But Justin cut off any discussion. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

”We’re gonna have to talk about it sometime.”

”I know.” He focused on the man-made waterfall across the room behind a glass wall, tropical plants and water flowing over stone steps. “Just not today.”

They strolled around the gift shop for a few moments to give their lunch time to digest before heading upstairs. Justin was so excited he could hardly wait. These were his heroes working in the medium he preferred: the drawing, whether it was a self-portrait by Picasso or a Georges Braque collage, Dubuffet's use of butterfly wings on paper or an abstract by Gorky. "Do you believe this?" he asked Xavier.

"What?"

He read from the brochure for the exhibition, "That 'Drawings remain the life force of the artist?' "

"Yeah." Teased, "I know you do."

Justin smiled. "I'm not a bad painter," he said in his defense. Remembered finger painting Brian in the- -

"J?"

He turned away, pretending to study a drawing by Wayne Thiebaud.

"I know you're thinking about him." Xavier waited for Justin to look back around. "It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"You're wearing his ring." Justin didn't answer just read some more from the exhibition brochure. "J?"

"There's still a couple more rooms."

Not pushing it, Xavier followed Justin into the next part of the exhibition.

Spending fifteen minutes in the remaining two rooms, they exited the museum after a stop in the gift shop so that Justin could pick up the exhibition catalogue. He swore he couldn't live without it and hoped that Brian wouldn't begrudge him the fifty-five dollars he spent on it.  
From the National Gallery of Art, the two budding artists visited the two sculpture gardens on the mall and then headed for the Freer Gallery of Art where they discovered this awesome exhibit of work by a Chinese artist, Xu Bing, whose instillations explored the interplay between pictures and words. They were especially impressed by a piece called "The Living Word" in which the dictionary meaning for bird was written in Chinese characters in ink on a piece of paper on the floor and then shaped in acrylic. Gradually, by changing the character slightly from standardized Chinese text to the ancient pictographs based on the bird's actual appearance, the words eventually became a flock suspended in mid-air entrancing all who saw them. They went from one floor of the exhibition to the other, even stopping to type their names into a program on an iMac which transformed the words into pseudo-Chinese characters. Justin took out a piece of paper and carefully copied the character. Then, while Xavier pretended to be occupied with his own name, he typed in Brian's and copied it as well. They would have liked to have stayed for the calligraphy lessons but they wanted to hit the Corcoran Gallery before it closed at five.  
"So why didn't you go to the Corcoran College of Art?" Justin asked as they trekked up to Constitution Avenue, then over to and north on 17th Street to the gallery.

"Wanted to get away from home, I guess." He shrugged. "Never been anywhere before."

Shyly glancing over at his friend, Justin said, "I'm glad you did."

"Even with everything that's happened?"

He nodded. Then, "Look. The White House. Brian calls him 'That Guy'." Paused, revised his statement. "Okay, he calls him 'That Fuckin' Bone-Headed Guy'."

The traveling exhibition at the Corcoran "Jasper Johns to Jeff Koons: Four Decades of Art from the Broad Collection" didn't disappoint. Xavier, for one, studied the piece by Jean-Michel Basquiat, not believing that anyone could couple that kind of anger with crystal clear vision at such a young age.

"You do."

Xavier looked surprised. "Not yet."

"You're wrong. One day we're gonna be saying we knew you when."

Laughing, Xavier said, "You're probably gonna be calling me saying, 'Where's the money you owe me?' "

"Whatever you want," promised Justin.

"Don't say that," Xavier told him.

"At least until Thursday."

 

 

The day passed without incident, he didn’t have any pressing meetings, just team get-togethers for progress reports. Satisfied that everyone was up to speed, he decided to take off early, go to the gym and sit in the sauna for a while.

The usual suspects were about eyeing him as if still not buying the ring and his declaration of fidelity to Justin. They hovered around seemingly in case he came to his senses despite his numerous refusals. Maybe I am being a fool. Justin was probably having the time of his life with Xavier, sightseeing during the day, making love- - "No." He startled himself with the word. Looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one except the guy who had just walked past him.

The man turned. "Fuck you."

And Brian could have laughed. Wiping his hair away from his forehead, he closed his eyes again. Concentrated on clearing his mind.

"Lot of disappointed people around here."

He replied without opening his eyes, "Some of them ought to be used to it by now." Felt Trevor sit next to him.

"Thought you might be interested in coming by the studio."

"Why?"

"I'm working on the clay model for the statue. I could really use you right now. Sketches are good for working out some things but I'm doing some fine work on the face and having the real thing there would help tremendously."

Smoothing his towel, Brian opened his eyes and shrugged. "I'm not doing anything tonight." Or tomorrow night or the night after that.

"Justin won't mind?"

"Justin's not here. He's gone after Xavier."

Confused, Trevor asked, "Why?"

"Didn't you know? Xavier was thinking about leaving. Actually, I guess, he had decided to leave."

Xavier was one of Trevor's favorite students. Even though Xavier preferred metalwork to stone, the two of them shared a deep love of sculpture in all of its manifestations and Trevor knew that one day, if he continued his studies and worked hard, Xavier could have a very fruitful and successful career as a sculptor. "He didn't say anything to me."

"Well," said Brian, "I wouldn't worry about it." He stood. "Justin's pretty persuasive. It's hard to say no to him." Walked out.

Having showered and changed, Brian followed Trevor to the Institute and tried not to think about anything at all, especially about how miserable he was and how much he missed his baby. But it was pointless because as he walked through the hallways to Trevor's studio, he thought about the student ones further on, thought about the time he'd come to find Justin and had found Trevor instead, the temptation to give into the man's wishes so strong that he'd very nearly succumbed. Then he thought about him and Justin fucking in his studio, an episode that still gave him a hard-on. He parked the Jeep and stared into the darkness. Was startled by Trevor tapping on the side window.

Despite being unfinished, the clay sculpture was still impressive. It was life-sized for one thing, which explained the meticulous measurements Trevor had taken; and the pose was pure Brian Kinney, the famous antecedent nonewithstanding. It looked as if he'd just come from Babylon, exhausted, and managed to take off most of his clothes before collapsing onto the couch, one foot still entangled in his jeans. And even though the face was only roughly shaped, he could see the resemblance. He was genuinely in awe of Trevor's talent. "That's amazing."

"It'll get better."

So Brian sat for a half hour while Trevor made corrections to the head of the clay model; watching as the man's strong fingers applied clay, smoothing the planes of the face with his thumb.

When Trevor was done, he stood back and compared the statue to the original and seemed satisfied. As Janson wiped his hands clean, Brian came over and examined his work. "So what do you think?"

"It's me all right."

Trevor, risking a touch, took hold of Brian's face and moved it from side to side. "The lips were the hardest part. And the eyes." He gazed at Brian. "You have the most amazing eyes."

Swallowing, Brian made no attempt to move but he was acutely aware of the danger he was in. Knew that he was feeling vulnerable and alone, knew that they were attracted to one another. He lowered his eyes. "Right now, you could ask me," he confessed huskily, "and I probably wouldn't be able to say no."

It was difficult but Trevor released him. "Then I won't ask." Moved away. Without turning around, he said, "Unless you want me to."

Shaking a little, Brian studied Trevor's back, the promise of strength in the set of his shoulders, and he remembered the feel of his fingers on his face, gentle yet firm in their purpose. It would be so easy right now to say yes, to forget about Justin and all of that shit, to just fuck himself into forgetfulness, only he couldn't forget and he knew it. Fucking Trevor would only complicate things, cloud the issue, and that's the last thing this situation needed. But he needed to feel wanted and Trevor wanted him, Trevor wanted him and Trevor was here and Justin wasn't, Justin was in DC getting his dick sucked- - "Fuck!" he whispered harshly.

Trevor turned. "Brian?"

But he was gone.

He nearly ran from the building, jumped into the Jeep, and took off, the sound of screeching tires trailing in his wake. Wanting to go to Babylon or Woody's and drink himself into oblivion he, instead, went home and grabbed the Beam. Took the bottle with him into the bedroom and set it on the beside table while he undressed. Tying his robe about his waist, he settled down for a long night of serious drinking. He didn't expect Justin to call until late, if at all, and he didn't care. Which wasn't true, he just cared too damn much. 

 

When Justin did finally call Brian was still awake and still sober. As much as he'd wanted to, he hadn't taken more than a couple sips of the bourbon. He picked up the phone on the third ring so as not to seem too desperate. "Yeah."

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Do anything exciting today?"

"Went to work. To the gym. The Institute."

"For what?"

"Trevor's statue."

"You have dinner?"

He lied, "Take-out."

"Brian. . . what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Except that. . . Shook his head. There was no point.

"You sure? You sound different."

"I said I'm okay."

Pause.

"You want me to come home?"

"Yeah, I do." Then he added, "When your trip is done."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Stop treating me like a fuckin' two-year-old. Another couple of days of greasy food and jerking off won't kill me." Yet he was angry, angry because it was killing him, because more than anything he wanted to tell Justin to take the next flight home. He wanted that so badly. Why didn't Justin understand and just do it? Just come the hell home?

"Fine."

Brian closed his eyes. I want you to come home. "I gotta go. It's late. We're not all on vacation."

"Sorry." Then, "I love you."

After a moment, "I love you too." He hung up. Picked up the bottle of Beam and upended it, taking a long swig. Wiped his face where a trickle had escaped his lips.

 

 

Immediately he knew that something had happened between the time he’d left Justin’s room last night and this morning. Justin’s manner was subdued and the gleam in his eye had all but disappeared. He was willing to bet it had to do with Justin’s daily call home. More than likely Brian was getting tired of sleeping alone and he had to be, at least, fifty percent convinced that he and Justin were sleeping together. “We don’t have to do this today,” Xavier said. They were going to hang out in Dupont Circle this afternoon, go to the Phillips and the Textile Museum, and then have dinner in the area, maybe hit the clubs. “I got stuff I can do.”

”No.” Justin hugged himself tightly. “I wanna do this. Besides,” he added, “I’m starving.”

”Justin, I know this is hard- -“

”You don’t know,” he replied. “I feel- -“ Stopped and looked away.

Taking Justin’s arm, Xavier pulled him back towards the hotel. “Come on.” Justin offered no resistance and handed over his card key when they got to his room. Sat down by the window. “What happened?”

”I called him.”

”And. . . ?”

”And he knows.”

”How, J? You didn’t tell him.”

”He’s not stupid!”

”Justin, come on.”

”Come on what? He’s at home and I’m here. . . and I. . . and. . . “

”And you want to be with him?”

”And I don’t want to hurt him. And I am. I know that I am. I can hear it in his voice.”

”You wanna go home?”

”Yes!” He sniffled. “I should never have come.”

”No, you shouldn’t have.”

”You should have said no.”

”Turn down the one thing in this world that I wanted the most? Why? Why would I do that, J?” Justin covered his face. From where he stood, Xavier watched his shoulders shake as he sobbed. Finally, Xavier went to him and embraced him. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry this is so hard.”

”What am I gonna do?”

Xavier kissed him softly on the cheek. “We’re gonna go to Dupont Circle and hit the museums and the galleries, scope out the cute guys, and then we’re gonna go to my place and wait for Nana Rose to come home. She’ll know what to do.” They had planned to go clubbing but Xavier figured Justin needed Nana Rose and her home cooking more than he needed house music.

So they went to Dupont Circle and had lunch at Afterwords, the café in the back of Kramer’s Books. Strolled down the street, checking out the cute gay guys who looked hungrily after them as they passed on the sidewalk. Went to Lambda Rising, a gay and lesbian bookstore, browsed the postcards, Justin getting a few to give to the guys. Then they made their way to the Phillips Museum, wandering through the halls of the mansion looking at the permanent collection after having viewed the featured exhibition. Leaving there, they walked down Massachusetts along Embassy Row looking at the stately residences that lined the street as they made a leisurely approach to the Textile Museum.

Justin laughed at some point.

”What?”

”Brian would have been museumed out by now.”

Xavier chuckled. That sounded like something Brian would say. And to see Justin laugh again, he would do almost anything. Except maybe give him up.

As it didn’t take long for them to view the works on display at the museum, they had time to continue their tour of the embassies in the neighborhood until they reached the Glover Bridge and the Rock Creek Park area.

By the time they got back to the Dupont Circle Metro station, it was five o’clock and they joined the throng of commuters heading home. Luckily, Xavier lived off of the red line so they wouldn’t have to change trains. They waited until two seats opened up and settled in for the ride from the west side to the east side of DC.

”It’s a different world over there,” Xavier warned.

As they got off the metro at Rhode Island and walked down the avenue, Justin, instinctively, drew closer to Xavier. It wasn’t that he felt afraid as much as he felt unwelcome and unwanted. It was a poor area yet, despite the poverty, some of the houses looked well cared for, the lawns neat and tidy as Deb would say.

The sight of Xavier’s building took him aback. “I thought you said it was an old building?”

”It is. They renovated.”

”It looks better than our building from the outside.”

Xavier grinned. “Come on in.” On the way up to his apartment, Xavier explained how some of the residents had banded together to try and change things about ten years ago. They’d fought to get the city involved, to make policy makers aware of the problems the housing project faced on a daily basis: poor management and high crime. With help from professors at a local university, clergymen in the area, and the city government, the housing project got a new lease on life. Grant money poured in to help clean up the area, to renovate the building, and to start a new computer training program in a newly built community center on the premises. “All the apartments are wired,” Xavier explained, “and everybody has a computer. My grandma even has email.” He unlocked the door. “This is it.”

The apartment wasn’t fancy like the loft but it looked lived in and comfortable like Deb’s house or Mel and Lindsay’s place. Justin had tried to introduce some softer elements into the loft but the overriding style of the place continued to defeat him. Not that he didn’t love the loft because he did, he just sometimes wished it was more homey. “I like it,” he said.

”Want something to drink?”

”Nah.”

”We can hang in my crib,” he said grinning. “Nana Rose won’t be home for another half hour.”

Justin lifted an eyebrow. “A whole half hour?”

”Uh-huh.”

”Lead the way.” He didn’t see much of the room as the moment they stepped over the threshold, Xavier closed the door, cut on the television, and they fell onto the bed kissing, making up for lost time. Even though they had a little time, they didn’t do anything more than kiss, not wanting to get started only to have to stop when Nana Rose made her appearance. Although it was tempting to try to sneak in a blow job or two. Feeling his own cock harden, Justin pushed Xavier away and sat up on the bed. “Later.”

Xavier exhaled noisily and shook his head, then leaned over and said against Justin’s neck, “Maybe I can get Nana Rose to let you spend the night.” Kissed him behind the ear.

”I don’t have any clothes or anything,” Justin pointed out.

”Won’t need em,” Xavier explained.

Justin kissed him softly. “So smart.” Found himself lying back on the bed again while Xavier made his way down his neck. Then Xavier jerked away.

”Nana Rose.”

Concentrating on getting his breathing under control and trying to will his hard-on to disappear, Justin hoped Xavier’s grandma didn’t notice anything. He heard her calling.

”Xavier! You home?”

Xavier opened the door. “In here, Nana.”

She appeared, a slender, tall woman, just a little shorter than Xavier, with his complexion and eyes, and graying brownish black hair in twists and tied in a scarf. To Justin, she looked about Debbie’s age, not old enough at all to have a grandson in college. “Well,” she said smiling, “I bet this is Justin.”

He stood. “Yes, ma’am.”

”You and this no count grandson of mine been having fun?”

He hoped he wasn't blushing. ”Yes, ma’am.”

”Ya’ll eat yet?”

”Nope,” said Xavier.

She folded her arms. “Waiting for me to come home and cook something, I suppose.”

”Yep.”

”Lazy. And after I been working all day long, hard as a dog.”

Xavier laughed. After a moment so did she. He kissed her. “You promised.”

”Get on way from here, boy.”

”I got all the stuff from the grocery store this morning.”

She sighed. “Let me get out of these clothes and I’ll see what I can do.” Turning, Rose paused. “It would help if certain lazy behind boys cut up the vegetables and chicken for me.”

Tugging on Justin’s arm, Xavier said, “Come on.”

”What’s she fixing?”

”West Indian curry chicken.”

While Rose changed clothes, Xavier and Justin peeled potatoes and cut them up along with the red pepper and onions and chicken. By the time she’d put on a pair of drawstring pants and a tee-shirt, they had everything chopped and ready for her expert hand. Xavier had even put on the rice.

Justin watched as she coated the chicken with salt and pepper and curry powder, then heated some oil and curry powder in a cast iron pot until the oil started to smoke. She tossed in the chicken and cooked it until it was brown on all sides, then added in the vegetables and browned them a little before pouring a cup of water over everything and covering the pot. “You like to cook, baby?” she asked.

”Yes, ma’am.”

She indicated Xavier with her head, “Maybe you ought to try and do something about your lazy friend over there.”

”Nana, why you always raggin’ on me?”

Smiling, she said, “Cause I can.” Laughed.

By the time dinner was over Justin was in love with Rose. She was nothing like his grandparents except for his drunken grandmother who was a lot of fun- - after a couple of martinis. Nana Rose reminded him of Deb, years of hard living having taught her the value of a good laugh, and she had a heart as big as Deb’s too. You only had to look at Xavier looking at her to see how much he loved her and Rose’s love for him was like a glaze over everything she said or did. Coming up behind the two of them washing dishes, she ran her hand over Xavier’s hair. “You need to redo that before it starts looking wild. Scare Justin away.”

”You’ll do it for me tomorrow?”

”Do it yourself,” she replied. “Who did it while you were away?”

Justin answered, “He did. I watched him once.”

”See there. Lazy boy.” Leaving them, she went and put on some music, propped her feet up, and sighed.

Taking the opportunity her absence afforded, Xavier kissed Justin. “She likes you.”

”I like her too. Does she know?”

”I don’t know. She can keep a secret better than anybody and she sees everything.”

”Then she probably knows. Deb says I can’t hide anything.” Smiling, Xavier kissed him and they put down the dishes for a moment to take care of more pressing needs.

”Ya’ll are slow as Methuselah,” Rose yelled and Xavier laughed.

”She knows.”

They came in looking rather sheepish after they’d finished the dishes. “Well?” she asked.

Still Xavier was going to make her work for it. “Well, what?”

”You gone tell me what’s going on?”

”Nothing.”

”Xavier Alexander Robinson, you gone stand there and lie to me like I can’t see what’s right in front of my face?” Justin, casually he hoped, placed his hands in front of his crotch. “Now, stop acting foolish and tell me what’s what.” But before he could begin, she added, “And explain to me why you’re messing around with someone with a ring on his finger.”

”Nana- -“

”Don’t Nana me.”

Justin interrupted. “It’s my fault.’

”I didn’t ask who was at fault, I asked what’s going on.”

”I love him,” said Xavier and it was the first time he’d actually admitted to her that he was gay. Even with Tony, he'd stopped short of saying that he'd loved the boy even though any fool could have seen that he had. In his own way. But this was different. These feelings he had for Justin demanded he tell the truth.

Inside Rose wanted to cry but on the outside she gave nothing away. Xavier needed her and she couldn't let him down even though she knew he was in for nothing but trouble. Not just because he was gay but because he was a black boy in love with a white boy and that wouldn't be easy. Especially being in love with this one. She motioned to the ring he wore. “And what’s that?”

”Brian gave it to me.” He paused. “He’s my partner.”

"Another boy at the school?"

"No. He's an advertising executive."

She paused. "How old is this man?"

Used to the reaction, Justin replied, "Thirty."

"Jee-sus." She sighed. ”Then what are you doing here with Xavier?”

”I love him.”

”And that ring doesn’t mean anything?”

”No, it does. I just- -“

”Baby, listen to me, do you love that man? The one that gave you that ring?”

With all of his heart. “Yes, ma’am.”

”But you’re here with my grandson.”

”It’s complicated.” Jesus, that was an understatement.

”Worse than the stories,” she commented. “Now, all I’m gone say about this is you better know what you’re doing.”

”But I don’t,” he confessed. “I don’t know anything except that. . . I love them both.”

”Lord have mercy.” She turned to Xavier. “You going back to school or are you gone stay here and bum around?”

”I’m going back.”

”Your doing,” she said to Justin.

And Justin added, "He's the best student in school. I couldn't let him quit because of me."

“Well. . . that's something, I suppose.“

Xavier sat next to her. “Nana, don’t be mad.”

”I’m not mad, Xavier. I’m just. . . I worry about you, child. And this. . . baby, someone’s gone get hurt. Most likely all of you. Is it worth it?”

His eyes on Justin, he told her, “I love him, Nana.”

Rose cupped his cheek, soft skin beneath her fingers. There was so much of his mama in him that, at times, she looked at him and saw Alexandria instead. Male, female, it didn’t matter cause here he was, just like his mama, in love with the wrong person and to hell with everything else. She just hoped he did better than Alexandria had but there was nothing she could tell him, nothing she could say to convince him not to go for what his heart told him he needed most in this world: Justin. Looking at Justin, she knew her grandbaby hadn’t had a choice, the boy was everything Xavier could have asked for; how could he have said no? ”What am I gone do with you, boy?”

And Xavier grinned. She always asked him that when she was most exasperated with and tickled by him. He stood and pulled on her hand. “Dance with me, Nana.”

She waved him away. “Go on.”

But he wouldn’t give up. “Come on, Nana. Don’t play me like that.”

Finally she relented and danced with him. After a moment Justin joined in. He never could resist good music. Rose watched him and laughed. “You go, baby.” Then nudged Xavier, “Look at him. You sure there ain’t some- -“

”Nana!”

She checked out Justin’s behind and shook her head. “All I’m saying is the butt don’t lie.”

”So wrong.” 

 

Eventually an eight and a half hour work day caught up with Rose and she begged off from further dancing. "You two gone wear me out." She flopped down on the couch. "How about you all dance and I'll watch."

At first Xavier felt awkward about dancing with Justin in front of his nana but, gradually, he loosened up and then he and Justin put on a show and a half. Careful to keep it PG, the two teens went through their best moves while Rose chanted, "Go, Xavier; go, Justin. . ." Just like they had at Justin's birthday party, the two turned the place out- - even if it was only the livingroom and their only audience Xavier's grandmother. For a while she forgot her worries and just enjoyed watching them, their love for each other evident. But every now and again Justin's ring would flash and she'd remember that there was another man involved whom she had never met, waiting in Pittsburgh for his partner to return home.

She knew all about partners, there was a gay man in her office who had a partner but she found it hard to believe that Justin, at nineteen, had not only a partner but a partner who was thirty-years-old. Once Justin had said that she remembered Xavier coming home at Christmas and mentioning his friend and the trial. A baseball bat to the head. Good Lord, some people. . . But Xavier hadn't said anything that would have lead her to believe that he had feelings for Justin. She'd assumed his experience with Tony had been enough but, truthfully, she'd hoped it had been enough because it was a hard row to hoe. Hard enough being a black male without being gay too. But she couldn't wish him to be any other way than how he was because he was special. She'd known that the first time he'd given her one of his drawings. Wasn't nothing but a little bitty thing, pencil almost bigger than he was, and he'd drawn his nana a picture of one of the neighborhood cats. Four-years-old and that picture had been better than what kids five years older than him could have drawn.

After his mama had died, she'd taken him in and raised him up, all the while hoping she could keep him safe long enough to send him away to art school, long enough to give him a chance at something better. That mess with Tony had almost killed him too, along with his friend, but he'd survived. Because of the art. Now along comes Justin with his pretty blue eyes and a smile that could light up a room and Xavier was lost again. Only, she had a feeling she could depend on Justin to do what was right for Xavier. After all, he'd come to DC to get his friend to go back to school, and not just because he loved him but because Xavier was good.

Rose smiled at the way they touched, drawn to one another despite having a spectator, and then moved apart when they remembered she was there. "That's all right," she assured them as she got up, "I'm going online for a while, watch a little TV, and then I'm taking my tired behind to bed. Ya'll can do whatever you want."

Xavier motioned for Justin to give him a moment alone with Rose so Justin pretended to have a sudden interest in the meager library occupying one bookcase in the corner. "Nana, is it okay if Justin stays the night?"

"You want me to let you two shack up in my house? And him married too? Or close enough to being married."

"Nana, please. I don't know what's gone happen once school starts again. This might be our only chance to be together."

She never could refuse him anything. "All I know is you better act like you got some sense. I hear any shouting tonight, I'm coming in there with the fire extinguisher."

Laughing, Xavier kissed her. "You a mess, Nana."

"Uh-huh. Just better remember that." Called to the other one, "I know you heard me too so I won't have to repeat myself."

Justin blushed. "Thanks, Nana Rose."

"Don't try and sweet talk me. One sweet talker in the house is already one too many." But she smiled and they all knew she was just kidding. Taking a chance, Justin came over and kissed her too. She shook her head, pleased despite herself. "Now ain't that a blip. Get on way from me. Both of you," and she sauntered off to her bedroom. 

 

Beginning at the tip, Justin used the fine teeth of the comb to unravel the first braid. Although Xavier had told him he didn’t have to be gentle cause he wasn’t when he did it himself, Justin used a light hand with the comb until the end was undone. Then he abandoned the comb and worked the rest of the plait loose with his fingers. Xavier’s hair was so thick, so soft. After he’d undone all of the braids, he buried his face in his lover’s hair and inhaled the scent of the oil Xavier had used. It smelt of peppermint and refreshed him.

Xaiver had been sitting on the floor at Justin’s feet. Now he turned and rose up, eased Justin back on the bed and straddled him. They were both hard already. He ground his crotch against Justin’s, kissed him deeply.

Justin sighed. Only Brian could get him as hard as fast, the difference being that Brian would cork his desire and shake it until he was nearly out of his mind before freeing him while Xavier, being a teenager too, was in favor of a quick release.

Working out of their clothes, they came together once more and Justin already had the condom in hand and was unrolling it over Xavier’s cock while the other teen was reaching for the lube.

As Xavier pushed inside him, Justin clenched his teeth and turned his head away, twisting back when Xavier’s lips sought out his. They joined in a kiss and Justin moaned inside Xavier’s mouth feeling his cock pulsing deep within. 

 

It was eleven fifty and Justin still hadn’t called. He’d waited all evening for the phone to ring telling himself that Justin was probably out having dinner with Xavier, refusing to imagine the worse. And yet the images came unbidden. Justin and Xavier

fucking in bed, dark and light bodies entwined.

He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t wanted anything, just wanted to hear Justin’s voice. Wrapping his arms about his waist, he forced himself to sit. Ring he told the phone but it didn’t.

Eleven fifty-two. 

 

A cry bubbled up from his stomach and he gasped, closed his mouth to keep it inside, and clenched his muscles around Xavier. 

 

Brian picked up the phone and started to dial Justin’s cell and paused, put the phone down again. Seeing

_Justin crying out as Xavier plunged inside him. ___

__Rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand, he clenched his jaw._ _

__Eleven fifty-four._ _

__Thighs tight around Xavier’s waist, Justin surrendered to his orgasm, cock erupting, cum flowing between them. Xavier lowered his head and cried out against Justin’s neck as he came. For a few moments afterwards both were motionless except for their chests heaving. Then Xavier pulled out and rolled over onto his back. Removed the condom. Justin was already moving into his arms. Suddenly he froze, sat up and checked the clock._ _

__”Fuck!”_ _

__Eleven fifty-seven._ _

__He got out his cell and dialed the loft. The phone rang and rang until the machine came on. He hung up without leaving a message. Tried Brian’s cell but there was no answer either. He covered his face. _Oh God. . .__ _

__Pushing through the darkness, Trevor spotted someone he knew. Went over and stood close to the man. “What are you doing here?”_ _

__Eyes slightly unfixed, Brian replied, “Looking to get my dick sucked.”_ _

__”Little unsteady on your feet.”_ _

__Brian smirked. “I’ll lie down.”_ _

__”I’ll take you home,” offered Trevor._ _

__”Is that a proposition, Prof?”_ _

__”Come on, you can sleep this off,” said Trevor, taking his arm. Whatever had caused him to come out prowling the night, Trevor figured he’d do a good deed and get Brian home and away from the backroom._ _

__”I can drive myself,” Brian replied, pulling his arm out of Trevor’s grip. “And if I end up wrapped around a fuckin’ telephone pole, who cares?”_ _

__”Justin, for one.” Brian laughed. “Your son, for another.”_ _

__”Better off without me.” The edge of his high was starting to dull, forcing him to think about things he'd rather not._ _

__Taking advantage of Brian’s apparent shift in attitude, Trevor made a counter-offer. “Least let me follow you home. Make sure you get there safe.”_ _

__He shrugged. “Whatever.”_ _

__Negotiating the club, they got inside their cars and Trevor followed Brian to the loft. Escorted him upstairs._ _

__Brian opened the door on the second try and slid it open with a bang. “See?” Gestured at the apartment. “Safe and sound.”_ _

__”Then I’ll go,” said Trevor._ _

__”Wait.” Brian removed his jacket, tossed it on the couch._ _

__But Trevor was already feeling as if he were hanging on to a slippery rock face with nothing but his fingers and toes. “I should go.”_ _

__”Why not?” Brian asked. “Everyone else does.” He climbed the steps to the bedroom and stripped. Sat on the bed, shoulders slumped._ _

__Following him, Trevor paused at the top of the steps. He knew this was a mistake. It would all too easy to fall for the stunning Mr. Kinney except that he was commited to Justin. No matter what, Trevor doubted Brian would end things with the teenager. So what did that leave him? Nothing. They'd fuck and in the morning he'd be on his way. Was that what he wanted? No. But was it enough? That he wasn't sure of. “So we do this and then what?”_ _

__”Go to sleep?”_ _

__”A one-night stand then.”_ _

__”Do we have to label everything?” Brian looked down at his hands, not wanting to see the rejection in Trevor’s face. Not tonight he prayed. I need this._ _

__For a long time Trevor didn’t answer and then he said, “I’m gonna go.” There was no point in starting something that would end badly. Better to just walk away, pride and heart intact, than to come between Brian and Justin because, despite their present problems, they seemed right for one another. Not because of any obvious reason but because they'd managed it so far. That meant something._ _

__”Do you want me to beg?” The words emerged from his mouth like figures from stone, rough and uncouth. “Beg you to fuck me?” He met Trevor’s gaze with difficulty. “Fine.” Laid back against the pillows. “Fuck me,” he said, voice trembling. Closed his eyes. “Please.”_ _

__Trevor wanted to run away. No matter the weakness, the need implied by Brian's pose and tone of voice, he was aware of the man's great strength as well. Not of body but of will. Lying supine on the bed, pleading to be fucked, Brian had never seemed more powerful to Trevor. He could feel the snare tightening around him, forcing him closer and yet he didn't care. He was lost in Brian's hazel eyes, in his red lips and wide nipples, his tousled hair and slender calves. If ever there had been a man created to entrap the wary and unwary alike, it was Brian Kinney. And like countless others before him, Trevor discovered that the last thing he wanted was to resist. Dropping his jacket to the floor, he made his way to the bed. Brian watched as the sculptor finished removing his clothes. He held out his hand. Trevor took it, closing his eyes, never looking back._ _

__Squatting over Trevor, impaled, Brian flung back his head and gave a long, low groan. Christ, this was what he'd needed, wanted. . . fuck, it felt so good, so right. Dropping to his knees, he took all of Trevor inside him with a shout and rocked back and forth, loving the way the man bucked beneath him, thrusting upwards with increasing strength and speed. It was like a struggle, the two of them fighting for dominance. Despite the fact that Trevor's cock was hard up his ass, Brian didn't give an inch, challenging Trevor to take what he wanted, challenging him to pleasure them both, to make him shout, to fuck him senseless. There was nothing gentle about their coupling, it was a hard and hot fucking that stretched every muscle, strained every joint. Sweat soaked the bed and still Brian rode Trevor's dick._ _

__Grabbing Brian around the waist, Trevor motioned for him to get down but Brian resisted. They wrestled, Trevor disloding Brian finally by virture of muscle mass gained from using a hammer and chisel to work stone. Still, Brian fought him, twisting in his grip and trying to keep Trevor from turning him over onto his belly. But, in the end, Trevor proved stronger and flipped Brian over. Using his knees, he opened Brian's thighs and kept them open while he prised his cheeks apart and pierced him right through the middle._ _

__Brian cried out. Even though he'd been loosened from their prior contact and was still wet with lube, it hurt. Ignoring his partner's complaints, Trevor continued to stab his hole with a cock that had only grown harder as he'd gotten more and more turned on by their fucking. At some point the pain subsided and Brian begin raising his hips to meet Trevor's lunges, his cock hard beneath him, his balls aching for release. Trevor slammed against him and he shouted. Again. It felt like he was being split in two. Grabbing the comforter, he stuffed his mouth with the cloth, biting down on it and screaming._ _

__The sound was a hammer blow. Trevor answered with a cry of his own, hit hard and fast._ _

__Like plunging off a cliff, Brian came, falling rapidly, head exploding as he bottomed out._ _

__

__Showing the tenderness he'd witheld before, Trevor laid next to Brian, arm around the other man's waist, and kissed his perfect, red lips._ _

__"Now what?" asked Trevor._ _

__"It's late. You don't have to go."_ _

__Trevor sat up and looked over at Brian, stretched out next to him, lean body like a mystery he had only just begun to unravel, and knew that it was time to depart. "Maybe I should. Before I get too comfortable."_ _

__Brian closed the door, shutting out the sight of Trevor descending the staircase. If he'd dared, he could have gotten him to stay. But then what? Trevor was right. Best to sever things before either one of them got too comfortable. Irregardless of how it all turned out, Justin was coming home in two days and shit was complicated enough as is. Turning to return to bed, he glimpsed a light flashing on the answering machine. Hit the message button._ _

___"Brian, I'm sorry I missed you. I tried calling you on your cell but I guess you have it turned off. I'll try to reach you again in the morning before you leave for work. I love you. Later."_ _ _

__Brian lowered his head._ _

__"Brian?"_ _

__"Who else would it be?"_ _

__"You sound- -"_ _

__"We've been through this before."_ _

__"You're not coming down with something, are you?"_ _

__"And what would you do if I were? Come home a day early to take care of me?"_ _

__Pause._ _

__"Are you sick?"_ _

__"No."_ _

__"Then what's wrong?"_ _

__Silence._ _

__"Why didn't you call?"_ _

__"I did."_ _

__"Late."_ _

__"Where were you?"_ _

__"I waited and waited and, finally, I decided not to wait anymore."_ _

__"I said I'd call late in the evening."_ _

__"It was almost midnight!"_ _

__"And you weren't home!" Pause. "Where were you?"_ _

__"Where were you? Out having fun with Xavier?"_ _

__"Should I be miserable?"_ _

__"I am." Pause. "And tired. . . and lonely. . ." Pause. "I miss you."_ _

__"I miss you."_ _

__"Why didn't you call?"_ _

__"I'm sorry."_ _

__Silence._ _

__"So you'll be home tomorrow?"_ _

__Pause._ _

__"Why wouldn't I be?"_ _

__

__A mouth full of pancakes Justin had fixed, Rose watched as he returned from Xavier's room with a hangdog look on his face. He'd gone in there alone to call Brian after missing him last night. She and Xavier had sat in the diningroom pretending they didn't know what was going on. She'd asked Xavier, "that don't bother you?"_ _

__"Nothing I can do about it," he'd replied. "Justin loves him."_ _

__Now, seeing the look on the blond boy's face, she understood just how hard it was for him, loving two people and unable to let go of either of them. "You all right, baby?" she asked and, if anything, it only made him sadder. "What?"_ _

__He didn't answer but Xavier did. "Brian calls him that."_ _

__"It's okay," Justin told her, then picked at his food, appetite having disappeared._ _

__When she started to say something else, Xavier gave her the eye and that did it. "Listen here, boy, don't you try and dominate me in my own house. I know you done started thinking you grown just cause you laying up with Justin but fucking- - pardon my French- - ain't never made nobody grown that I know of."_ _

__Unexpectedly, Justin started laughing. He laughed until the tears began and then he just sat there and cried. Rose got up and stood next to him, brushed back his hair. "Lord have mercy, you're a mess, child."_ _

__He sniffled. "I know." Laughed again. "Brian says I'm two handfuls."_ _

__"The man must be a saint," she declared._ _

__At that he almost fell out of his chair laughing, him and Xavier._ _

__"What?"_ _

__Justin cackled. "That's the one thing nobody's ever called Brian."_ _

__"Cause if Justin's two handfuls," Xavier said, "Brian's like ten."_ _

__"You got a picture of him?" she asked. Justin took out his wallet and passed it to her. Inside was copy of the photograph Brian had taken of them in the livingroom of the loft. Rose studied his face. "Well, that explains part of it."_ _

__"Part of what?" asked Justin._ _

__"Why you're with him." She took a last look before giving back his wallet. "That is one fine-looking man."_ _

__Justin smiled and assured her, "He only gets finer in person."_ _

__"That's o-kay. Ya'll's situation is messed up enough without adding me to the picture." Grinning, she told him, "Cause gay, straight, or bi, can't no man resist the power in my hips," and she wiggled said irresistable hips to demonstrate while Justin and Xavier cracked up. "Well," she said after they'd stopped laughing, "I've got to get a move on before they give my low-paying job to somebody else." They cleared the dishes and then she asked Xavier, "Am I seeing you tonight?" He shook his head. "Hmm." Grabbing hold of Justin, she hugged him. "You have a good trip, baby, hear?"_ _

__"Yes, ma'am."_ _

__She held his face in her hands. "I don't know what to tell you."_ _

__"We'll figure something out," he promised her._ _

__Rose pecked him on the cheek. "Cute as can be," she declared._ _

__"You too, Nana Rose."_ _

__"Sweet talker." Getting a hug from Xavier too, she told her grandson, "You can call your nana tonight, if you find a spare minute."_ _

__"I'll see what I can do," Xavier replied and she popped him on the head before grabbing her purse and going. Xavier drew Justin to him and kissed him softly. "Told you she was something else." Another kiss. "What are we doing today?"_ _

__"Georgetown, the zoo, and Adams-Morgan." He paused. "And then I have to pack."_ _

__"But first," said Xavier, "we're going back to bed."_ _

__Justin laughed lazily. "Didn't know that was on the tour."_ _

__"Main attraction."_ _

__

__Georgetown was fabulous. They walked around campus gawking at the buildings and attracting all kinds of attention. Which made them feel like the two hottest guys on the planet. Which was kind of cool given all the other shit they had to deal with. It was especially gratifying for Justin since he was used to Brian getting most of the attention when they went out anywhere. Snagging a brochure from the information desk in the student union where they had a quick lunch, they found out that Healy Hall, a stunning example of Romanesque Revival architecture, was named for the Reverend Patrick F. Healy, the first African-American Jesuit priest and president of a major university._ _

__"I didn't know that," Xavier said. "Damn. The things you learn."  
"Amazing," teased Justin and received a bump from Xavier._ _

__The zoo was a bust._ _

__It started out well enough at the Cheetah Conservation Station where they got a place close to the fence and managed to spot one of the cheetahs hiding in the tall grass, probably wondering why all these evolved apes were pointing and yelling at him._ _

__From there they went to see the Giant Pandas. They were too much. The male panda was up in a tree and he stuck his head down in the fork of a branch and couldn't get it back out for about thirty seconds. "He must have had a toke," Justin said laughing._ _

__"High on bamboo," added Xavier._ _

__"No wonder China let us have him. He's one of the slow pandas."_ _

__Xavier giggled. "They were like, 'Sure, take him, he's the best one.' "_ _

__And then they got to the Think Tank where the orangutans were housed and it all fell apart. Justin began to think of Brian and the time they'd taken Gus to the zoo and Brian had sung, "At the Zoo" for the baby. _"The monkeys stand for honesty,/ Giraffes are insincere,/ And elephants are kindly but they're dumb./ Orangutans are skeptical/ Of changes in their cages,/ And the zookeeper is very fond of rum. . ."_ *** Desperately trying to hide his distress from Xavier, Justin went outside using the excuse that he wanted some ice cream. Xavier found him sitting on a bench, not having gotten anything. _ _

__"I wish Gus were here. He loves the zoo."_ _

__"Loves his Pooh too," added Xavier. He'd seen the way the toddler doted on Justin and knew the feeling was mutual. "You'll see him soon enough."_ _

__"What if- - What if we break up?" he asked, meaning him and Brian._ _

__"You'd still get to see Gus. I don't think Brian would keep you from seeing him."_ _

__Justin stood. "Maybe he should. Maybe I'm not good enough to be around Gus."_ _

__Following him, Xavier asked, "Just because you fell in love with someone else?"_ _

__"We're committed," he told Xavier in a ragged whisper. "That should mean something."_ _

__"And it does. It means I can't have you, not really, not entirely." He turned from Justin as the other boy's face softened, realizing that Xavier was hurting as much as he was._ _

__"Let's finish looking around and go get something to eat. I'm starving."_ _

__Hitting the Great Cats exhibits and swinging by to see the seals and sea lions, Justin and Xavier walked back down to the Woodley Park metro station and caught a bus that took them over the Duke Ellington Bridge into Adams-Morgon._ _

__They got off at Columbia Road, their attention arrested by a couple of buildings with murals on them, one of three macaws and the other of a scene from the neighborhood: people doing their laundry in a laundromat, a woman looking out of a window, a man raking leaves, a taxi passing by, and a boy taking out the trash. Walking up the street a little, they saw another mural of some cows riding bicycles. All of the murals were vibrant and full of life just like the area. From Columbia Road, they headed down 18th Street, stopping to browse in the many bookstores and funky little shops lining the sidwalk. Xavier pointed out the mural of Toulouse-Lautrec on the front of a club and further on one of a redheaded woman with words painted on her bare breasts, the famous Madam Organ.  
Hunger having been forgotten in lieu of other pleasures, it soon returned sharper than before. They decided to eat at the Red Sea, an Ethiopian restaurant that Xavier heard was da bomb. Ordering Doro Wat, or Ethiopian stew made with chicken, they ate it with pieces of injera, flatbread, right off the platter. Listening to Aster Aweke and surrounded by travel posters of Ethiopia, they could imagine that they were no longer in the D.C. but in Addis Ababa, thousands of miles away from their troubles._ _

__

__

__Nothing had gone wrong today, it was just that nothing had gone terribly right either. He returned to the loft after work glad that he was taking the next day off. Maybe once Justin came home things would start looking up. He hoped. Their conversation that morning hadn't exactly instilled him with confidence but it hadn't depressed him further. Not much anyway._ _

__Wearily he changed his clothes, slipping into a pair of grey sweats and a black tank top. Didn't feel like going out, seeing the guys, or doing much else. _Except feeling sorry for yourself._ "So what if I do?" he asked softly._ _

__Fridge was empty but that didn't surprise him. He opened the drawer of take-out/delivery menus and closed it again; nothing appealed to him. Restless, he cast his mind about for something to do. If Justin were there they'd just fuck but- -_ _

___But Justin isn't here._ He didn't think about where Justin was. Turned his mind, instead, to the night before, to him and Trevor fucking, and he knew that he could call him and the sculptor would come over and take the bitter taste of loneliness from his mouth at least for a few hours. If he let him. But he wouldn't. Justin was coming home tomorrow._ _

__He wandered into the bathroom never more conscious of the fact that he lived in a confined space. Not really sure why he'd gone in there, Brian looked around. Spotted the clothes hamper. The maid was coming on Friday and she'd do the laundry along with cleaning the apartment, not that it needed much cleaning, especially with Justin away. Justin, who could never remember to rinse all of the toothpaste out of the sink; or to wipe all of his shaving cream from the counter; or to spray the shower stall with that crap you used to keep the mildew from building up; or to put his clothes in the hamper. He was used to Jen doing those things and no matter how many times Brian reminded him (i.e. yelled at him) he continued to forget._ _

__Lifting the top on the hamper, Brian toyed with the idea of doing the laundry himself. Sometimes Justin did it, despite Brian paying the maid to do it, saying he liked sitting in the laundry room, listening to the hum of the machines as he worked on a sketch or paper for school. Shit, it'd been years since he'd done the laundry and he'd never found it relaxing, had hated it until the moment he'd decided no more and called the maid service._ _

__Brian reached in and picked up the first thing he touched. A pair of Justin's briefs. Holding them he remembered snatching them from the floor where Justin had left them and tossing them into the hamper. He smiled, stroking the soft, grey, cotton material. Like stroking Justn's skin. Closing his eyes, he lifted the briefs to his face and inhaled. There was just enough of the teen's scent trapped in the cloth that he could imagine himself nosing between Justin's thighs, getting a whiff of his odor, a heady combination of sweat and semen. His cock swelled with excitement accompanied by a tingling in his balls. Sniffing the briefs once more, he carried them into the other room._ _

__Shirt pulled up around his chest, sweats pushed down beneath his scrotum, Justin's briefs over his face, Brian tweaked his nipples and tugged on his cock as he inhaled his absent lover's scent. The cloth over his mouth and nose fluttered as he breathed in Justin's aroma and exhaled noisily. A couple more deep breaths and he removed the underpants from his face and wrapped them around his cock. Sighing, he drew the briefs up and down his shaft, the soft cotton caressing him as gently as Justin would have. He could almost feel the teen's hand on his dick. His hole opened and precum gushed forth wetting Justin's briefs. He repositioned them so that the crotch rubbed against the tip of his cock, clinging to him as the cloth became wet. He lifted the y-fronts to his mouth and sucked on the crotch, tasting his precum and Justin's. Knowing how aroused the boy got during any day, there were bound to be traces of his juices left behind._ _

__He placed the briefs around his cock once more and continued to jack off. His nipples were hard and sensitive. He only wished Justin were there to lick them, to suck them into the warmth of his mouth- - God, bite them- -_ _

__"Oh!" he moaned and tightened his grip on his hard-on. Spread his thighs and cupped his sac with his free hand. Imagined Justin's head bobbing over his crotch, going down on him. The muscles in his calves tensed and he let his head turn to the side, eyes squeezed shut. He could feel Justin's plump lips on his shaft, flickering tongue snaking into his hole. "Yes. . . " he breathed and jerked on his dick. Hard. Again. Cum struck the cloth and clung to it, spreading as he continued to beat off, cum-soaked cotton stretched over his cock head. He continued to tug on his dick, muscles taunt, breath erupting in bursts, until he was spent. When his heart rate had returned to normal, he took the briefs from his cock and spread them on the pillow next to him, then licked his own cum from the cloth, as if he'd brought Justin off inside his Calvin Kleins and was now devouring his seed._ _

__Just as he was cleaning the last of his jizz from the briefs, the buzzer sounded. "Fuck! Even when I'm beating off, they know it," he moaned. "Christ."_ _

__Pulling his sweats up over his now-flaccid dick, he answered the summons. "What?"_ _

__"Bri. It's your son," said Lindz._ _

__"Dada."_ _

__"Come on," he replied and hit the door release. She didn't have to wait for him but one too many close encounters had taught her the benefit of doing so. Which gave him time to wash his face hastily in the sink, drying off with a dishtowel. Had to remember to put that in the hamper when he put Justin's briefs back._ _

__He had the door open before she could knock. Gus rushed to him and grabbed his legs screeching. "Hey, Sonny Boy," he cooed, picking the toddler up._ _

__"Dada, dadadada."_ _

__"What?" Gus grabbed- - what else?- - his hair and gave him a big raspberry kiss, wet and sloppy. Brian let him and laughed. They'd definitely have to work on his technique._ _

__"Enjoying the bachelor life?" Lindsay asked._ _

__"Oh, yeah. Let's see," he said as he carried Gus to the counter and set him on top, "I'm lonely, hungry, and horny."_ _

__Lindsay arched a brow. "Well, we can't help you with the horny part but we brought dinner." She held up a bag. "Homemade chicken pot pie."_ _

__He very nearly sighed. "Did I ever mention you're my favorite lesbian in the whole wide world?"_ _

__So he, Lindsay, and Gus sat at the dining table and had dinner, the two adults eating in between feeding him and making sure he didn't spit out his carrots or try to feed them to Beh._ _

__"Carrots are good for you, Gus," Brian told him. "They'll make you big and strong and all the cute boys will want you."_ _

__"He might like girls," Lindz pointd out. "After all, he's living with lesbians."_ _

__"My point exactly. He'll be sick of pussy by the time he turns twelve."_ _

__"Brian!"_ _

__Gus laughed. "Pu- -" he began but Brian covered his mouth._ _

__"Was he going to say what I think he was going to say?"_ _

__"Say what?" Brian asked innocently but he didn't remove his hand from over the baby's mouth until Gus began to fidget._ _

__"That's okay," she said. "I consider it conditioning." She smiled at Gus. "Pussy."_ _

__"Pusse."_ _

__"Stop!" exclaimed Brian._ _

__"Pussy."_ _

__"Pusse."_ _

__Brian yelled and grabbed Gus, scurrying away into the livingroom as Lindz gloated. "Pussy power wins again!"_ _

__"So," she asked as they settled down on the sofa, Gus playing at their feet, "how have you been?"_ _

__He shrugged, continually amazed at the way his mood seemed to see-saw, up one moment, down the next. "He's coming home tomorrow and. . . I don't know what to expect."_ _

__"What do you mean?"_ _

__"I mean. . . I think. . . " No, he knew. "He's in love with this kid." He looked down at Gus to escape her gaze._ _

__"They're friends."_ _

__Everyone said that because no one wanted to admit the truth. "It's more than that, Lindsay." He met her eyes briefly but couldn't sustain the contact; it was just too hard to say. "I know that they've been together." Sexually. "I can hear it in his voice. He calls me after they're done fucking and I pretend like I don't know anything. Like I'm a fucking idiot."_ _

__"You don't know that. You have to trust him."_ _

__"I've tried, Lindz, but- -"_ _

__"But what?"_ _

__"But nothing." He stood and stepped around Gus. "I think about Cam every day."_ _

__"He's not- -"_ _

__"I know he's not." Glanced at the television. "I watched the tape." Felt Gus brush against him and he squatted down. "Looking at it, at us. . . fuck. We looked so happy."_ _

__She had to admit it. "You were."_ _

__"Until we weren't anymore." He sat on the floor and Gus crawled in between his legs and sat babbling to Beh. "I don't understand. How things could get so fucked up in only three months. I swear, Lindsay, I didn't. . . I was happy. I didn't think anything was wrong. But every fucking thing was wrong. It was all a lie- -"_ _

__"Listen to yourself!" She knew the only way to get through to him when he was like this was to be tough with him. "You don't know that anything's happen."_ _

__"I know!" Gus looked up at him in alarm. He spoke again, softer this time. "I know."_ _

__And she believed him; if anyone would know, he would. Hadn't he gone through it with Cam? Hadn't he pretended not to see the signs over and over again until he'd have to be blind not to see? "So what are you going to do?"_ _

__Gus stood and grabbed his shirt, wanting to be held, so he picked baby and bear up and cradled them in his arms. "The last time Cam and I had it out, you know what I did? I told him I didn't care what he did. He could go out and fuck as many guys as he wanted, do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't leave me. All I wanted was to keep him."_ _

__She'd never heard him confess that before but she'd suspected it, suspected it'd been something impossibly hard._ _

__"That's what I told him. And I hated myself for doing it. I hated myself for needing him so much that I could even think it, much less say it. Mean it. But it didn't matter. He left anyway." He tightened his grip on Gus. "So what'll I have to do to keep Justin? And will it do any good? Or is he gonna walk away too?"_ _

__Lindsay looked at him, the picture of strength, sinewy arms hard with muscle, holding his son and yet she knew how much of that was pretense, posturing, the body refusing to betray any weakness, and she wanted to protect him, even if it meant protecting him from Justin. "You do what's right for you. Fuck everybody else if you have to but do what's right for you. Remember that."_ _

__Fighting back a tear that eventually won and slid down his face, he said, "Being with Justin is what's right for me. Or as right as I'm ever gonna find."_ _

__

__

__Neither one of them had much appetite even though they'd made love throughout the night on nothing but their early dinner in Georgetown. Waking at dawn, they remained in bed, curled in one another's arms. Justn's flight was scheduled for the afternoon but he'd decided to see if he could get an earlier one. Brian was taking the day off to be with him and there was no point in putting off the discussion they needed to have, even if it meant having less time with Xavier before he left DC._ _

__Having lain awake for a half hour, they stired, ordering breakfast for two. Washing quickly, Xavier returned to bed while Justin put on his bathrobe to wait for room service. They ignored the looks the guy gave them, then settled down on the bed to eat after he left._ _

__"This bacon is good," said Justin, munching on a crispy strip, toes dancing back and forth._ _

__Xavier laughed and leaned over to kiss him. "I love you."_ _

__"I love you too."_ _

__Even though he didn't want to, he had to ask, "What's going to happen to us when you get back?"_ _

__"I don't know."_ _

__"I don't think I could take not seeing you."_ _

__"We'll find a way."_ _

__"How, Justin? It sounds good when we're here alone but what about Brian? What about your life with him?" He finished his coffee. "If I asked you- -"_ _

__"Don't."_ _

__"I know that you love him too but, J- -"_ _

__"It's different." And fuck if he could explain it any better than that. But he would have to, if he wanted Brian to understand._ _

__"I know that, but you have to love one of us more, or better."_ _

__Justin laid down his fork. "What if I told you I do?"_ _

__"I know it's not me."_ _

__"Xavier- -"_ _

__"I know that he comes first."_ _

__"What are you saying?"_ _

__Xavier took a deep breath. "That I'll take what I can get. As long as I don't have to lose you completely."_ _

__"What if that ends up meaning we can only be friends? Could you do that?"_ _

__"Could you?"_ _

__"I have Brian."_ _

__"You might not after this. You willing to risk that or should we just hang it up right now?"_ _

__"I can't make any promises. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know how he's going to react and I know it's not fair, to any of us, but I don't know what to do. I just know how I feel. And right now, I feel like I can't do without either of you." He was gripping the comforter in his hands. Slowly, he released it._ _

__"Damn," swore Xavier. "This is some fucked up shit."_ _

__Justin eased into his arms. Kissed him. "If anybody can make it work, we can."_ _

__Xavier shook his head. "He is gone freak. And after that, he's gone kill us."_ _

__"Don't worry," promised Justin. "I'll protect you from His Big and Badness."_ _

__"Who's going to protect you?"_ _

__And Justin thought, _He would never hurt me._ Of that he was sure. _ _

__They'd agreed that Xavier wouldn't come to the airport with him, that they'd say their goodbyes at the hotel. Only, when the time came, they found it hard to stick to their plans. But Justin had been able to get an earlier flight and he intended to be on it. So they had to part now._ _

__Arms around one another, they stood inside the room where they'd first made love and tried not to think about what the next few days would bring. Xavier was remaining behind, to fly out on Sunday and even then they didn't know if they'd see each other or under what circumstances. Kissing Justin for the last time, Xavier whispered, "I love you. No matter what."_ _

__Saying nothing as Xavier left, Justin turned away at the last moment and waited until he was gone to check the room for anything he might have forgotten to pack. But he couldn't pretend it hadn't affected him, Xavier's leaving, and he sat on the bed and let the tears come, wiping them away after a while. Grabbed his stuff and went downstairs to check out._ _

__Xavier watched him pay the bill and go outside to take the hotel shuttle to the airport. Sniffling, he left his hiding place and exited by another entrance. It was going to be a long four days._ _

__It only took a half hour to clear all the security checks, so he had about an hour to wait until his flight began boarding. He hadn't called Brian this morning and he knew that he should have but he hadn't wanted to get into it with him until they were face-to-face, and he didn't want to pretend anymore, to lie anymore._ _

__Handing the gate agent his ticket, he looked back, expecting to see Brian there the way he'd been when Justin had left Pittsburgh and, instead, he saw the shadow of Xavier. For a second he almost turned back before realizing it was only his imagination._ _

__

__The flight was just over an hour, just enough time for him to have worked himself into a good panic by the time the plane touched down. Not for the first time did he regret not having Brian at the airport to meet him. Hailing a cab, he gave the guy his address and tried to calm down. Only he was terrified. There was no telling what kind of reception he'd get, no telling what Brian would do once he told him about his feelings for Xavier. _God_ , he prayed, _let me think of something, some way not to lose him._ But which one?_ _

__The building looked the same and he spotted the Jeep in its customary place which meant Brian was home waiting to go to the airport to pick him up. Except he was already here. Punching in the building code, he went inside and paused at the foot of the stairwell. His heart was pounding and he set down his bags and took a deep breath. _It'll work out. I know it will._ Hands trembling, he gathered his stuff and started up the stairs. No point in dawdling any longer._ _

__Brian came out of the bedroom where he'd been straightening up and almost had a fucking seizure. "Shit!" Justin was standing in the middle of the floor with his bags piled next to the sofa. "What are you doing here?"_ _

__"I took an earlier flight."_ _

__"Why didn't you call?" Brian asked, bounding down the stairs._ _

__Justin moved towards him. "Took a cab." Closing the distance between them, Brian kissed him and he almost said fuck it, leave it for later, cause Brian smelled so good all he wanted was to climb into bed and make love for hours. But he couldn't. "Brian. . ."_ _

__Parting from him, the man said, "You missed Gus last night. I started to call so that he could talk to you." He walked towards the kitchen, not sure what he was going to get or do once he was in there. All he knew was that he did not want to have this conversation. Not yet._ _

__"Brian- -"_ _

__"He was about to drive me fuckin' crazy. Yelling for you to come out and play. Totally wouldn't buy that you weren't here. Lindsay. . . " _Please, not now, just- - just give me one more day- - an hour, all I'm asking for is one hour- -__ _

__"Bri- -"_ _

__"You don't have to say it!" he shouted, stopping in his tracks. His head suddenly felt like it was about to split in two and, for a second, everything faded to black. He had to get out of there._ _

__"I'm sorry." Brian grabbed his keys from the countertop, his coat from the sofa, and headed for the door. Justin moved to stop him. "Brian, wait! We need to talk!" He caught hold of Brian's sweater but the man pulled away and kept going. The door shut. Justin slumped against the sofa. "Brian. . ."_ _

__

__Never in a million years would he have imagined he'd be sitting by Cam's grave afraid to go home. It was the last day of February and he was so cold he trembled. Maybe it wasn't the weather, maybe it was the effort not to cry that caused him to shake. Maybe it was the feeling that his entire life had just gone down the fuckin' drain. Despite knowing all along that Justin had been unfaithful, he'd been able to hold it together, been able to put off reacting to it. "Fuck," he whispered, feeling the tears begin. Why did it always end up like this? Him alone wondering what had happened. That's why he'd avoided love, relationships, any hint of commitment, because what did it get you but a cold ass and a pain in your chest that wouldn't go away?_ _

__And he'd known, he'd known before Justin had gotten on that plane that he and Xavier would end up sleeping together, he'd practically shoved Justin into his arms but he'd trusted him, that was what it was all supposed to be about, fuckin' trust. And love. So why was it that on the day of his partner's return, he was sitting at his former lover's gravesite about to cry his eyes out?_ _

__Addressing the cold stone, he asked softly, "What's wrong with me?" and made no attempt to hold it in any longer. Not bothering to cover his face, he cried openly. Because there had to be something wrong with him. Two lovers and they'd both cheated on him, both abandoned him. Justin was still at the loft, but for how long? What was he going to do? He didn't even check the area out to see if anyone was watching him, didn't care if anyone saw the great Brian Kinney crying on a hard-assed granite bench in the middle of a fucking cemetery cause it felt like he was dying. Nothing, not even Justin getting bashed, had hurt like this. Cold tears trickled down his cheeks and he didn't wipe them away. "What did I do wrong?" he asked but he had no answers and, of the two people who did have answers, one was dead and the other was home waiting for him to return. Only he couldn't go home. Not right now, not like this. He felt completely drained of energy, of hope, and of strength. All he wanted to do was to lie down on Cam's grave and close his eyes._ _

__Never having confessed this to another soul, he began to speak. "I waited for you. After you told me you weren't coming back, I waited. Came home every night after work for a week and waited. I just knew you were coming back because I. . . I couldn't imagine you living without me. Because I was barely living without you." Sobbed. "Night after fucking night, I waited for you to show up with any excuse, anything. It didn't matter, I would have taken it, Cam, cause all I wanted. . . was to be with you. I loved you. . . " Paused. "I loved you more than anything in this world." He wiped his eyes. "But I love him more. More than my life. I would do anything for him." Looked up. "Even give him up if I had to." Paused again. "I just don't know how. How do you give up your goddamn life?"_ _

__

__Hours later he returned home. He'd gone to the office and sat at his desk, staring at a blank computer screen. There was no where else he could have gone. Not to Lindsay's place or Deb's or over to Mikey's or his mom's, not without having to go into everything and he hadn't felt like further exposing himself today. Bad enough he'd sat in the graveyard bawling like a baby without going to his friends and admitting that, once again, he'd been had. He was angry when he got to the loft, angry and sad. Without looking at Justin, he started for the bedroom._ _

__"Hungry?"_ _

__He could smell food. Justin had cooked. "Not really."_ _

__"Can we talk?"_ _

__"I suppose."_ _

__Justin took a cautious step towards him and he shook his head once. The boy paused. "I didn't go to DC thinking this would happen."_ _

__"The truth, Justin." He deserved that much._ _

__"Maybe I thought it might happen. Mostly, I was afraid to think about it at all. I thought, if I don't think about it, it won't happen."_ _

__"But it did." It took two attempts to ask, "Do you love him?"_ _

__"Brian- -"_ _

__"You think it could hurt any more than it already does?" He turned and looked at the teen. "Do you love him?"_ _

__"I love him."_ _

__He turned away. "So what does that mean? You leaving?"_ _

__"I don't want to." Justin moved closer despite the earlier warning. "Do you want me to go?"_ _

__"No." He didn't. But he had to be clear on how things stood. "What about Xavier? You willing to give him up?" The younger man said nothing. "Justin?"_ _

__"I love him."_ _

__"What are you saying?"_ _

__"I want him to be a part of my life."_ _

__A pain went right through him, like a stake through his heart. "I guess I was wrong, it can hurt more."_ _

__"Brian. Listen." But Brian had started climbing the steps to the bedroom. "Listen to me! I don't want to hurt you- -"_ _

__He whipped around. "So you want us both? Is that it?"_ _

__"I don't know what I want."_ _

__Christ. "What am I supposed to do? Wait until you figure it out?" He laughed bitterly. "Are you trying to kill me?"_ _

__"I think we should talk to Dr. Drew."_ _

___Three months ago we were happy. What happened to us?_ Taking hold of the side of the doorframe for support, he bowed his head. "Fine."_ _

__"Brian- -"_ _

__"I said fine. Call him."_ _

__"I already did."_ _

__Industrious._ _

__"He can see us tomorrow afternoon at four."_ _

__Only there was more to it than just them._ _

__"Is he back yet?" Brian asked. No need to say who._ _

__"Sunday."_ _

__He nodded, then headed for bed, completely wasted._ _

__"Brian?"_ _

__He paused, wanting to sit where he was, just sit until the world made sense again._ _

__"I love you."_ _

__Saying nothing in return, Brian continued up the steps. He didn't trust himself to speak because he was afraid if he did open his mouth he'd never stop screaming. Even though it was early, he undressed and crawled under the covers. Closed his eyes. And ached for his little boy's touch. He wanted Justin so badly he could hardly stand it and he was all too aware of the teen's desire for him, his disappointment, his fear. But he couldn't do anything about that, he couldn't solve their problems, couldn't even begin to deal with them. As difficult as it would probably be, he was actually looking forward to their session with Drew. If anyone could help them, Drew could. Still, it didn't do him any good right now when he was aching inside so badly he wanted to cry. But he'd cried enough at Cam's grave. And he'd cry enough tomorrow, of that he was certain._ _

__Brian was in bed and he was alone. He'd traveled hundreds of miles for them to be together only to discover they were further apart than they'd ever been. He'd never seen Brian like that before, that particular combination of helplesness and fury and a deep, deep hurt that he could not hide. And he had done that to Brian, had caused that pain. More than anything he wanted to go to his partner and hold him, make love to him, but he knew that any attempt on his part would be met with rejection. Worse, he or Brian might say or do something they wouldn't be able to undo or unsay._ _

__Not hungry either, he let the food cool and then put it away. Sat on the sofa, unsure of what to do. There was no way he could go into their bedroom and lie next to Brian so he'd have to bunk down on the couch. But he wasn't tired. Not really. Just weary. He'd watch television but the last thing he wanted was to disturb Brian. Getting up and pulling his Wraeththu book from the shelf, he turned to a bookmarked page- - Brian had put it there- - and began reading, hoping to lose himself in someone else's troubles. Only the tears obscured the lines of text and he couldn't see a damn thing._ _

__

__

__They were so used to showering together that it felt strange doing it apart but a night's sleep (not rest, they hadn't rested much) hadn't eased the tension between them and neither one wanted to test the peace. Justin fixed breakfast but Brian only took a cup of coffee, carrying it into the livingroom where he stood gazing out of the window. They hadn't spoken five words to one another all morning._ _

__Packing his briefcase, Brian said, "I'll pick you up around three thirty," and then he grabbed his coat without waiting to hear Justin's response._ _

__Left alone, the teen finished his meal and cleared away the dishes. The maid was supposed to come today but he didn't feel like dealing with her and Brian hadn't left a check for her so he called and told her not to bother. He did the laundry himself, needing something to do to take his mind off Brian and Xavier and the mess he'd gotten them into. He found a pair of his briefs that were stiff with cum and didn't remember blowing his wad in them but so much had happened, what did it matter?_ _

__The laundry done, he got out the dust mop and ran it over all the floors- -moving the rugs to do the livingroom- - until they shone. He'd leave the waxing to the maid when she came next week. As he put the rug back in place by the sofa, he remembered them making love on it once and he panicked, heart racing, breath coming in short pants. Dizzy, he sat on the edge of the couch, bent in two, waiting until the attack passed. What have I done? Brian hates me. More than anything he wanted to call Xavier but that was the number one thing on the list of things he couldn't do. And he couldn't call Daphne and talk to her about it, couldn't admit to her that he'd fucked up everything. Couldn't go see his mom or Deb, not up to hearing those lectures, not yet, cause they were coming, as soon as they all found out what had happened. Why? he asked himself. Why had he done this?_ _

__With no answers forthcoming, he went back to cleaning, taking on the kitchen and bathroom, sponging down the inside of the refrigerator and giving the shower stall a thorough wash. He mopped the floor in the bathroom and went through all the bottles of shampoo and conditioner and lotion and the two dozen other things they used on a regular basis to see if they were low on anything. Marked the ones they'd need to replenish on the shopping list Brian kept on his desk, trying not to think about the fact that this might be the last time._ _

__Chores finished by noon, he reheated the leftovers from last night and ate a light lunch. There were still almost three hours left to go before Brian would come for him, so he got out his sketch pad and worked on yet another portrait of Brian, only he had trouble getting past his eyes. Brian had the most intense eyes, even on paper, drawn in pencil, they entranced, trapped. Accused. He put the drawing away._ _

__He could see it in Brian's eyes. The end. But how could that be? They'd only been together for how long? How few months? How could it be over so soon? Especially when they still each loved the other so much it was killing them to be apart. He'd wanted to crawl into bed last night and coax Brian into making love but he'd known better and kept to his place on the couch. Listening to Brian toss and turn in the night, the man getting up once to pour himself a drink before returning to bed, hopefully, to fall asleep. It had worked and Justin had lain awake himself, wondering if he should resort to the Beam when, eventually, sleep had overtaken him. But he'd awakened, exhausted, as if he hadn't slept a wink._ _

__I did this._ _

__

__He couldn't concentrate on anything. Probably should have called in but that would have meant being in the loft with Justin all day, waiting for three thirty to arrive and he hadn't been able to do it. So he'd come here, instead, and wasted an entire day at work. Luckily it was Friday, nothing much happening anyway, and he was able to sit in his office, undisturbed by crises or deadlines, and brood._ _

__Around lunch time he debated ordering something from the deli and having it delivered, then decided that what he needed was to get out into the air for a little while. He took an hour and a half and carried his sandwich to the park, sat watching the kids play without seeing them. Seeing, instead, him and Justin at the park with Gus, pushing the baby on the swings, Justin and Gus riding the merry-go-round while he spun it slowly. Sandwich half-eaten next to him, he slipped on his sunglasses so that no one could see the pain in his eyes._ _

__Cynthia had taken the day off so he didn't have to explain to her why he was leaving a little after three. Slipping out unseen, one of the virtues of having an office near the elevator, he got the Jeep from the parking garage and headed home. For once, traffic didn't bother him. He actually wished it were heavier, anything to keep him from pulling up in front of the building and seeing Justin waiting there for him. But he got there by half past three and Justin was waiting for him. Looking as beautiful as he'd ever seen him. It wasn't fair that he should want him so much when Justin had hurt him so badly. Angry, he kept his eyes on the road as the teen climbed in._ _

__"Hey," said Justin softly as if he were privy to Brian's thoughts._ _

__He said nothing, not trusting himself to say anything, shifted gears, and pulled away from the curb._ _

__Nothing had changed about Drew's office. The same receptionist sat out front and noted their arrival, indicated that they should make themselves comfortable as he was still with his three o'clock appointment. They sat a seat apart from one another, glancing at but not reading the magazines on the table before them. And the anger continued to build inside Brian. How many times had he come here trying to figure out why he did the things he did? How hard had he worked to understand himself? To be a better partner for Justin? And for what? For Justin to turn around and- -_ _

__"Mr. Kinney?" the receptionist asked._ _

__He looked up. "Yeah?"_ _

__"Are you all right?"_ _

__He chuckled. She must have been taking humor lessons from Drew. But it worked as he felt his hands unclench from the arms of his chair. He hadn't realized he'd been gripping them so tightly._ _

__Justin could have kissed her. He'd been watching Brian out of the corner of his eye, watching him grow angrier and angrier, fingers white from clutching the Naugahyde-covered chair arms and he hadn't known what to do. Wanting to touch Brian and knowing better than to do so. His own hands trembled in his lap and he fought the panic growing inside him._ _

__Finally four o'clock came and the door to Drew's office opened. The previous client departed with a nod to the receptionist and Drew appeared and waved them in._ _

__Settling down in the chair that had become his through repeated use, Brian was careful not to meet the psychiatrist's eyes. As much as he liked Drew, he'd hoped never to be in his office again. Yet here he was, everything fucked the hell up. Only, for once, it wasn't his doing. Or was it? That was what he was most afraid of finding out, that somehow he had caused this. That he was at fault, that he had brought this on himself. Pressing his lips tightly together, he focused on the pattern in the rug._ _

__He was aware of Brian's misery, could feel the waves of pain emanating from him. And there was nothing he could do or say to make things right. They were wasting their time here, he knew it, because the one thing Brian needed him to say, he couldn't. That his involvement with Xavier would end. Yesterday, when he'd called Dr. Becker, he'd been optomistic, but today, in his office, he knew the truth: that they were finished._ _

__"I was surprised to hear from you," Drew said, crossing his legs and taking up his pad and pencil. He studied Brian's lowered head, Justin's eyes that wouldn't quite meet his gaze. "So what seems to be the problem?" Neither spoke. "Brian?"_ _

__"You'll have to ask him," he said barely speaking above a whisper._ _

__Drew knew he had to take charge immediately or Brian would try to dictate the flow of the session. "I'm asking you."_ _

__"I don't know all of the details."_ _

__Before Drew could press him further, Justin said, "He's right."_ _

__"Then how about you tell me what's going on?" He watched as the teenager stalled for time, looking down at his hands as if he had a cheat sheet with all the information written on it. Although he'd told them that he'd been surprised to hear from them, he hadn't been. After all that they'd been through with the trial, he'd expected there to be some lingering effects from their ordeal. That they had managed to keep things together this long amazed him. Not only kept them together but had exchanged rings as well. He'd noticed them the moment they'd stepped into his office. So what had happened? Justin still hadn't spoken. He prompted him. "Justin?"_ _

__"I've. . . I've fallen in love with someone else."_ _

__It took a great deal of control to keep his features blank, his expression neutral. Justin had fallen in love with someone else? What the fuck? No wonder Brian looked like he'd been kicked in the nuts about a half a dozen times. "You want to elaborate on that?"_ _

__"It's Xavier."_ _

__Drew searched his memory for the name. Came up with it. Another student at the Institute. Justin's friend. "How did this happen?" And, fair enough, Justin shrugged. How did you explain how love happened? "When did you first realize that you were in love with Xavier?" Justin glanced at Brian and Drew tensed. This was going to be bad._ _

__"Last year." Brian looked up. "Before Christmas vacation."_ _

__Drew saw Brian's lips part as if he were going to say something and then he closed his mouth and stood. "Brian." The man paused, not having really thought about moving, just operating on automatic pilot._ _

__"You knew," he whispered. Faced Justin and spoke again, voice choked. "You knew when you took that ring. You knew," he repeated. "It was all a lie."_ _

__"No. Brian, I loved you," Justin explained. "I still love you- -"_ _

__"Don't. Don't you fucking say that to me!"_ _

__Before he lost complete control of the session, Drew asked Brian to sit. When he didn't, he repeated his request, this time more firmly. Brian complied, arms wrapped around him as if he were freezing._ _

__He'd known, known this hadn't been something that had just appeared out of nowhere but he'd never guessed that Justin had known, consciously, that he was in love with Xavier when they'd exchanged rings. It was the one thing he'd held onto, clutched to his chest like some kind of fucking shield and it'd failed to protect him. He knew that he was crying and he didn't care, he'd earned the right by once again being the world's. . . biggest. . . ._ _

__Tears trailing his cheeks, Justin whispered, "I'm sorry. Brian, I'm sorry. I didn't. . ." He reached towards him but Drew intercepted his hand._ _

__"Brian?" But the man wouldn't respond. Signaling to Justin to give them a moment, Drew watched as the teenager walked across the room, stood by the window. Justin out of immediate sight, Drew touched Brian's arm. "It's okay. Do you want to continue?" Taking a ragged breath, Brian tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. "I think maybe we should stop here today."_ _

__"And do what?" he asked weakly._ _

__Justin turned from the window, waiting for a miracle, Drew was sure. Only he didn't have any miracle cures. "And start again tomorrow." There went his weekend._ _

__

__Justin had driven them home. Home. He would have laughed except that there wasn't one goddamn funny thing about it. How long had he been fooling himself, thinking they had a life together when, in fact, he'd been deluding himself, living in a dreamworld while Justin hid his true feelings? Had none of it been real? He couldn't believe that it'd all been an illusion, that none of the feelings Justin had professed for him meant anything. And yet, here they were, together but farther apart than they'd ever been, even before they'd officially 'gotten together'._ _

__The smell of steak greeted him as he exited the bathroom, having showered to try and wash away some of the day's tensions and failing. He sat upon the bed for the longest time not wanting to move, wishing somehow he could close his eyes and travel through time, backwards or forwards, he didn't care, just so long as he was no longer in the moment, because the pain was something else._ _

__The source of that pain appeared in the doorway. "I fixed dinner."_ _

__"I'm not hungry."_ _

__"Did you eat anything today?"_ _

__Brian smirked, unsuccessfully, as his eyes couldn't quite affect the carelessness needed to complete the gesture. "This concern of yours would be touching if you hadn't just spent the past week out-of-town fucking your best friend."_ _

__The teen flinched._ _

__"But then again, you're such a giving person. Take me, for example. You've managed to make me feel like a fucking fool for ever believing anyone could love me. Thank you for giving me that."_ _

__"I do love you," Justin said as Brian rose to walk past him. Brian said nothing. Justin grabbed his arm, aware of the danger but not caring. "Why won't you talk to me?"_ _

__Brian turned and fixed him with a look that made him let go. "Because I could fucking kill you," he replied and, at that moment, he meant it. A moment later, he regretted the words._ _

__Stunned, Justin took a step backwards, not looking where he was going, and almost fell but Brian reached out and caught him._ _

__Wanting to release Justin, Brian couldn't. It'd been so long since they'd last touched and he wanted. . . He freed the teen and started to turn away but Justin moved towards him, into his arms, and Brian found that he could not push him away. Still, he whispered, "Don't."_ _

__"Don't what?" Justin ran his hand up Brian's arm and stroked the side of his neck. "Don't love you?" He stood on his tiptoes and kissed his throat. "But I do. I love you."_ _

__"No."_ _

__"I love you and I want you." Brian tried to part from him but the teen retained his hold. "And I know that you want me."_ _

__Fuck yeah, he wanted him, needed him. . . wanted to fall on the bed and make love to him but how? How the fuck could he do those things knowing what had happened between Justin and Xavier?_ _

__Any why couldn't he? Just for one night, for one hour. . . just forget? He lowered his head, kissing Justin hard upon the lips. And it felt so good. All he had to do was to just stop thinking. Let it go: the anger, the hurt, the disappointment. Just put it aside._ _

__But wasn't that what he'd done all along? Pretending not to see, not to suspect, not to know? Ignoring the problem didn't make it go away, just reduced his chances of finding a solution. In time._ _

__Only. . . it'd been so long. And he wanted Justin so much. . . _It isn't fair.__ _

__Lips in a thin line, testament to the effort it took, Brian removed Justin's arms from around his neck and shoulders and walked into the other room before the teenager had a chance to respond- - or he weakened._ _

__Justin positioned a salad and one of the grilled ribeyes on the dining table. Poured a glass of wine. Then he returned to the kitchen, got his own plate, and perched on a barstool. After a moment, Brian got up from the computer and sat down before the meal his partner had prepared. Picking up his fork, he began to eat._ _

__

__

__Saturday. A week ago he'd been in bed, worried but not overly so. Thinking about the afternoon when he'd go to Trevor's studio to pose for him. Since then he'd slept with Trevor. And that was the lesser of two evils. Hard to believe. This morning he'd gotten up and eaten a bagel, had two cups of coffee, hoping he'd remain steady during their session but it didn't much matter if he did or not because their upcoming meeting was guaranteed to shake everything up._ _

__Receptionist at home, Drew let them in himself and settled each into their respective chairs. Brian avoided looking at either the therapist or his lover. Although he was here as a show of good faith, he didn't believe for a moment that Drew would be able to help them. He only had to pull back the curtain and peek at the seething mass of emotions festering inside himself to know it was pointless even to try. But he was here. Ready to gut himself once more. And for what? For a relationship Justin clearly didn't value. Looking for something to do with his hands, he placed them on his knees and saw the ring on his finger. Remembered. . . everything about that night and how he'd felt when Justin had slipped it on him, the comforting snugness of it. The way he used to constantly check to make sure it hadn't slipped off when he worked out, the way its unexpected gleam would brighten even the most tedious division meeting. And the ring was only a symbol, a stand-in for something intangible that manifested itself in the way Justin made his heart race a little whenever the teen asked him if he wanted to dance; the peace he felt, wrapped in Justin's arms at night; the sense of belonging that came from sharing a simple meal. All changed, not destroyed completely, just changed enough that everything felt wrong now and still, still his heart remembered and reached for those things._ _

__"Tell me what happened," Drew instructed Justin, "and, Brian, I want you to listen to Justin without interrupting. Listen to what he has to say and think about it. You'll have a chance to speak as well, but, for right now, I want you to listen. You think you can do that?"_ _

__"Whatever," he replied although he didn't feel as cavalier as his tone implied._ _

__"Okay, Justin."_ _

__The teenager hesitated, then said, "I started having feelings for Xavier right away, I guess. Not that I knew that's what they were. I just thought we'd connected. We were friends. That's all. That's all I wanted." His eyes pleaded with Brian to understand. "I didn't want to be with him."_ _

__Drew asked, "Is that really true, Justin?"_ _

__"I- - I wanted to be with Brian." He added, "But I guess part of me wanted to be with Xavier. I just didn't want to admit it. And then, after the trial was over, I went to talk to him, and he kissed me." That first kiss. Hearing Xavier say, 'I love you, J.' The feel of Xavier's body against his, straining against good sense and obligation._ _

__"Is that when you knew you loved him?"_ _

__Afraid to even look in Brian's direction, Justin replied, "Yes."_ _

__He remembered. Justin coming to his office, crying, telling him some sob story about Xavier and some kid who'd been in love with him, not once mentioning that he and Xavier had been over there rubbing up against each other and, still, he'd suspected. And what had he done? Instead of questioning Justin about his suspicions, he'd accepted the lie. Even after Justin had spoken on Chris Hobbs' behalf, prompted by his feelings for Xavier, he'd found a way to live with it. Another concession, another compromise. Until, finally, fueled by Cam's death, afraid of losing Justin too, he'd gotten the rings. As if merely having them would fix everything. Remove all doubts and fears, arm them with resistance, with fortitude and a sense of responsibility._ _

__Now look at them._ _

__Drew continued questioning Justin. "What did you do once you realized you loved Xavier?"_ _

__"Nothing. I tried to ignore it."_ _

__"Why?"_ _

__"Because I wanted things to work with Brian. Because I loved him." Stole a glance at his partner. "I still do."_ _

__Noting that Brian would not look at Justin, Drew prompted Justin to begin speaking once more. "So, Xavier went away for the holidays and then what?"_ _

__"Brian and I exchanged rings."_ _

__"And you accepted the ring despite having feelings for Xavier."_ _

__"I couldn't refuse."_ _

__"Why not?"_ _

__"Because I loved Brian and I wanted to be with him. I thought- -" Justin exhaled noisily, "I thought I could handle it. That I could ignore my feelings for Xavier and have a life with Brian."_ _

__"Why didn't you tell Brian about these feelings you had for Xavier?"_ _

__Justin laughed. "Are you fucking kidding? He'd have freaked."_ _

__"Like now?" asked Drew._ _

__The teen sobered. Fuck! He'd fucked everything up. "I never meant to hurt him."_ _

__At that, Brian chuckled. He'd managed to keep quiet until this point but he couldn't refrain any longer._ _

__Turning towards him, Drew reminded Brian, "You'll have your turn to speak. Right now, I'd like you to listen to Justin without the editorial comments."_ _

__He crossed his legs and looked away. "Fine."_ _

__"Brian?" Drew waited until the man looked back at him. "I know this is difficult but I assumed that both of you wanted to find a way to deal with the situation. If that isn't true then. . . " held out his hand, "I can go play tennis."_ _

__"What the fuck do you want me to do?"_ _

__"Listen to him."_ _

__"All I've done is listen to him!" Brian shouted. "You think this is easy?"_ _

__"I know it isn't. But I need you to stay with it."_ _

__"You expect me to sit here and listen to this bull fucking shit when- -"_ _

__"Yeah, I do. You'll get your turn. But, right now, I want you to shut up and listen to Justin, listen to what he's trying to tell you. There might actually be something you don't know or don't understand."_ _

__"I understand all right," Brian replied. "I understand that he made a commitment to me and then he broke it. I understand- -"_ _

__"Brian- -"_ _

__"I understand that I don't mean shit to him- -"_ _

__Justin broke in. "That's not true."_ _

__"It is true. Because if I did, we wouldn't be here."_ _

__"It's not that simple!"_ _

__"Well, it should be!" Brian stood. "You made a promise to me to be faithful. Is this your idea of being faithful?"_ _

__Aware of the counter-productiveness of that discussion at this juncture, Drew attempted to redirect the converstaion. "I think we'd be better served if Justin talked about the progression of his relationship with Xavier." He waited for Brian to take his seat again. When he didn't, Drew said firmly, "Brian." Brian glared at him but sat. "Justin, what happened after the holidays?"_ _

__It took Justin a moment to compose himself. Brian's accusations. . . he couldn't deny them, especially when he was guilty of everything Brian had charged him with. "Xavier came back," he said, picking up the threads of his narrative, "and I told him that Brian and I were committed and that all he and I could ever be was friends."_ _

__"Did he believe you?"_ _

__"At the time I thought he did. But now I know that he didn't."_ _

__"Did you mean it?"_ _

__"I meant it." He hesitated. "I wanted to mean it."_ _

__"What happened?"_ _

__"Xavier quit school. Well, he was going to quit school. And I couldn't let him. He's the best student in the entire freshman class and I didn't want him to throw his life away because of me."_ _

__"He wasn't your responsibility."_ _

__"I couldn't help it."_ _

__"And that was all?"_ _

__Angrily Justin shouted, "Of course, that wasn't all! I was in love with him," he said exasperatedly. "I know that now."_ _

__"Justin- -"_ _

__"I'm sorry! All right? I'm sorry."_ _

__"Are you apologizing for falling in love?"_ _

__"Yes. No. I don't- -" He averted his eyes. "I don't know. I don't want to hurt Brian. But I am. I know that."_ _

__"Then what happened?"_ _

__"I went to DC to see Xavier. To try and talk him into coming back."_ _

__Again Brian snickered. Stopped at a sharp look from Drew._ _

__"He should laugh," Justin said. "First thing we did when I got there was- -"_ _

__Brian cut him off. "I don't need to hear the fucking details."_ _

__For once, Drew concurred. "I think it's enough for us to say that you and Xavier now have a physical relationship as well as an emotional one." With an eye to Brian for possible outbursts, Drew asked, "So where do things stand now?"_ _

__That was the question he'd dreaded all session long because it was up to him, where they went from here. And to say he was confused or conflicted was an understatement. Risking a look at Brian, he trembled. Brian looked like he was coming undone from the inside._ _

__"Justin?" Drew asked again. "Where do things stand now?"_ _

__He heard himself answer, "I love them both."_ _

__"What does that mean?"_ _

__"I don't want to lose either one."_ _

__He heard Drew inhale loudly. "You want to continue your relationship with Xavier."_ _

__"Yes." Heard Brian shift in his seat. Didn't dare look, didn't dare see his chest torn open, heart exposed._ _

__"Why do you want Xavier in your life?"_ _

__An easy question. "Because we like the same things. We're both artists. We're the same age- - or will be when his birthday comes this summer. We both like going to museums and talking about art. . . and we like the same kinds of movies, the same kind of music. . . And I can talk to him about anything. I feel good when I'm with him."_ _

__"That sounds like friendship."_ _

__"We are friends."_ _

__"Why not leave it at that?"_ _

__The hard question. The hard answer, rather. "Because it's more than friendship."_ _

__"You're attracted to him sexually?"_ _

__"It feels right for us to be together like that."_ _

__Drew was aware of Brian's misery. It was a miracle that the man was still seated, still silent. Maybe it was just that he couldn't move, he didn't have the strength to. Justin's confession had drained him. Hating to hurt him any further, Drew felt he had to ask, "Why not leave Brian for Xavier?"_ _

__"I don't want that."_ _

__"Why not?"_ _

__"I love Brian. Xavier's. . ." And he didn't say what else was on his mind: that being with Xavier had been easy and being with Brian had been anything but easy. "I'm not trying to run out on Brian."_ _

__"Why not? Why stay with Brian?"_ _

__Another question for which he had ample answers. He allowed himself a small smile as he spoke. "Because he loves me. Because he's a good man. He makes me laugh. He's always there for me, even when he's mad as hell with me. I love it when we argue. When we make up. He supports me, gives me strength when I don't have any left, and there's no one I'd rather have with me when I'm in trouble. We have a life together, a family, a future, and I don't want to lose that."_ _

__"Then why do you need Xavier? Especially when he's threatening all of that."_ _

__"He makes my life richer," and he couldn't explain why except to say that he did._ _

__"So I'm not enough?" Brian asked._ _

__Drew intercepted, "Brian- -"_ _

__"You're saying I'm not enough."_ _

__"I'm saying you don't have to be everything I need. I don't expect you to be, and with Xavier, you don't have to be."_ _

__"You're saying I'm not enough," Brian repeated._ _

__And he was. Except that he didn't mean it in a negative way. "It's the same way you share things with Michael that I can't share with you. I didn't understand, before. But I do now."_ _

__"Except I don't fuck Mikey," pointed out Brian._ _

__"Justin," asked Drew, "if Brian says he can't deal with you and Xavier being together, then what? Will you give Xavier up?"_ _

__He thought of his life without Xavier now that he'd found him and knew it would be an emptier place. "I don't want to."_ _

__"But if you have to, will you?"_ _

__Of all the things he and Xavier had done together, the moment that loomed largest in his mind was the two of them dancing in Nana Rose's livingroom, with Rose laughing and urging them on, "Go, Xavier; go, Justin. . ." He'd forgotten that he'd ever had another life, it seemed to him as if he'd always been there, dancing with Xavier, with Nana Rose laughing._ _

__"Justin? If you have to give Xavier up, will you?"_ _

__But he could do without those things. "Yes," he replied, Nana Rose's laughter fading._ _

__Brian looked away. "I feel so much better now," he said wearily._ _

__Even if they didn't need it, he wanted a break. "I think we should give ourselves some time to regroup." He put aside his notepad and pencil. "How about we take an hour or so to have some lunch, and meet back here at. . ." checked his watch, "two o'clock?" They both nodded. "Good."_ _

__Neither of them suggested going to the diner or to Liberty Avenue at all. Picking a place at random among the restaurants and cafes near Drew's office, they ordered food and sat down to wait for a meal they didn't want._ _

__Brian's mind was reeling with the revelations of the morning. He didn't even taste the coffee he was drinking, listening again to Justin saying "He makes my life richer." Sighing, he put down his cup. I'm not enough for him._ _

__"Brian- -" began Justin but he was interrupted by the waiter arriving with their plates._ _

__When the guy had left again, Brian said, "I don't want to talk about it."_ _

__"You're thinking about it," Justin accused._ _

__"Well, if you can figure out a way for me not to, let me know," Brian replied. Turned to his salad. Pushed it away._ _

__The waiter appeared. "Sir, is there something wrong?"_ _

__Brian shook his head. Everything._ _

__

__From their faces, Drew could tell that lunch had been a roaring success. Brian came in and took his chair without meeting his eyes. Neither did Justin. As for himself, he'd grabbed a sandwich from the deli on the corner and raced back to his office to think. It was amazing. Those two were like a conference panel waiting to happen. That they'd even hooked up in the first place was unbelievable; that they'd survived the things they had, miraculous. The odds had been against them. Sometimes Drew wondered if people really realized how easy it was for things not to have worked out. If Brian had walked out of the club a minute earlier, if Justin had lingered on the street a block away from Babylon thirty seconds longer, they'd never have met at all. And how many times along the way had disaster been imminent? Too many to recount. Brian's past hadn't helped. Neither had Justin's youth and inexperience. And yet they'd made it, more than made it, had worked to create something special, enviable even. How to keep them from throwing it all away? How to help them figure out what it was they really wanted? Those were the challenges facing him._ _

__"I think we should recap what happened this morning." Drew consulted his notes although he didn't really have to._ _

__Brian closed his eyes and floated while Drew spoke. It was better not to hear, not to understand, just to float, and forget. . . Except he couldn't. It was in every breath he took, every beat of his heart, every movement, every thought._ _

__"So, now, I think, we should discuss Brian's feelings regarding the situation," said Drew. "I want you to tell us how you feel."_ _

__"I feel," he croaked and paused. Swallowed. I don't want to do this._ _

__"Brian?"_ _

__"I don't want to do this," he said aloud._ _

__"Why?"_ _

__"Because what good is it gonna do? He wants Xavier and there's nothing I can say to change that. So why- - why keep. . ."_ _

__"Why keep doing what, Brian?"_ _

__"Why keep talking about it?"_ _

__"What do you want?"_ _

__"I want my life back!"_ _

__"You and Justin alone."_ _

__"Yes!" He grimaced. "But that's not gonna happen, is it?"_ _

__"Justin has said that he's willing to give Xavier up, if that's what you want."_ _

__And Brian laughed, a bitter sound that left a sharp, tangy taste in his mouth. "Yeah, I believe that. The same way I believed him when he said we were okay, when he said that he and Xavier were just friends." He shook his head and blinked back tears._ _

__"How does that make you feel?"_ _

__"He lied to me- -"_ _

__"How does that make you feel?"_ _

__"I feel like. . ." A tear fell. "I gave him everything I had. I changed my fucking life. I changed me," he confessed. "All of it for him. And it's like it didn't mean anything. Like it was nothing. . . like I was nothing." He sniffled. "I believed him. Even after Cam, after everything I went through with him, I believed Justin when he told me that he loved me, that he would never hurt me like that and. . . look at me. Sitting here wondering what the fuck happened to my life."_ _

__"You feel betrayed."_ _

__"Yes! And angry and- -" He caught his breath. "And stupid. Because I knew better. I knew this would happen and I still believed him. Even at the end, when he left for DC, I knew and- -" He cradled his head. God, it ached._ _

__"And what, Brian?"_ _

__"And I pretended not to. Because I. . . I love him so much," he confessed. "I don't understand."_ _

__"Understand what?"_ _

__"How he could want someone else."_ _

__"Do you remember back when you and Justin came to see me? Because he'd found out you were tricking?"_ _

__"That's different."_ _

__"How?"_ _

__"Because those guys didn't mean shit to me."_ _

__"But you were still having sex with them."_ _

__"And I stopped. Because it was important to him, because we were committed to one another. I would never betray him. Not like this."_ _

__"What bothers you about Justin's relationship with Xavier?"_ _

__"The fact that he has a relationship with Xavier!" As hard as it was to say it, he did. "If it was just fucking, if they'd fucked and it was over, I could deal with it. But it's not. It's not over. And it should never have gone this far. We're committed. We're wearing fucking rings! That should mean something."_ _

__"Justin says it does."_ _

__"Fuck that."_ _

__"Brian- -"_ _

__"So I'm supposed to understand that my lover, my partner needs to be with someone else? I understand that I don't meet all of his needs. Fine. No one's perfect. Apparently, not even me. Maybe he doesn't meet all of my needs either. But we exchanged rings, we said that we'd be faithful to one another, so tough shit. That's what it means. All or nothing."_ _

__"Then you want to dissolve your relationship?"_ _

__And the thought rocked him. Was that what he was saying?_ _

__"If Justin can't or won't end his relationship with Xavier, do you want to end your relationship?"_ _

__"He said he'd give Xavier up."_ _

__"And you said you didn't believe him. So, here are your choices: you stay in your relationship or you end it. Irregardless of what happens with Xavier. What's it gonna be?" He knew he was being rough with Brian and that the man had been through hell but there was no point in sugarcoating it. He waited for a moment, then asked again, "Do you want to end your relationship with Justin?"_ _

__He couldn't even think about losing Justin, it hurt too much. "No," he whispered and knew that he'd given away everything now. There was nothing left._ _

__"I think we need to talk about options." Flipping through his notebook, Drew consulted the notes he'd written during lunch. "Have either of you heard of polyamory?"_ _

__"Swinging?" Brian asked._ _

__"Not quite. It means loving more than one person; being sexually and/or emotionally involved with more than one person. The main point is that everyone knows and everyone consents. It's basically the kind of relationship you had before, when you were both allowed to have sex outside of your relationship. This time, Xavier would be included in your relationship." Justin frowned. "You mean, a threesome? Me and Brian and Xavier?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__"And how would that work? Would we all be involved with one another?" the teen asked._ _

__"That's a possibility. Some threesomes eventually form a triad or triangle where all three people are equally committed to one another. But, right now, I think a vee would be the best fit for the three of you. It's called that because of the shape of the pairings." He drew a v on a piece of paper. "A vee is where the pivot person, in this case Justin, is strongly involved with each of the other two people," pointing to the legs of the v, "but the other two people are less involved with one another." He looked at each of them, gauging their reactions. Brian, as he'd expected, didn't look pleased at all. "That's just one option. Another option is for the two of you to maintain your relationship as is and for Justin to continue to see Xavier without any involvement from Brian."_ _

__"What's the advantage of the vee?" Justin asked._ _

__"The possibility that Brian and Xavier might become involved, that you could each contribute to and benefit from the relationship."_ _

__Justin said, "And they would have sex with one another?"_ _

__"If they wanted. Or maybe they'd only provide emotional support for one another. It'd be up to all of you to decide," he told them. "You would have to establish rules for your relationship," and he paused, waiting for Brian to comment on the fact that their rules hadn't prevented Justin from straying but Brian didn't say anything. Which worried Drew. "I want to stress the fact that this is something you'd all have to agree to. If it's not what you want, if you don't think it's something you can do, then say so."_ _

__"And what are our other options?" Brian asked._ _

__"For you and Justin to end your relationship or for Justin and Xavier to end theirs."_ _

__Brian studied his hands. "Even if he told me he and Xavier were ending things, I wouldn't believe him. I can't believe him."_ _

__"Then maybe you should reconsider ending your relationship."_ _

__"No."_ _

__"If there's no trust- -"_ _

__"I trust him. About most things." He rubbed his temples._ _

__"Brian?"_ _

__He lowered his hand. "All right."_ _

__"All right what?"_ _

__"I'm willing to try."_ _

__"Which option?"_ _

__"Whatever he wants."_ _

__"No, it's what you want," countered Drew._ _

__"I don't need Xavier."_ _

__Drew nodded. "Then, maybe, for right now, you and Justin and Justin and Xavier should maintain separate relationships."_ _

__"But," asked Justin, "we could still work towards all of us being involved with one another, couldn't we?"_ _

__"It's up to the three of you. Things might change. Brian might discover that he wants to explore a relationship with Xavier. That's possible."_ _

__Brian thought to himself, _Not really._ Xavier was good-looking and, under other circumstances, maybe he would want him but the circumstances they were under now made it damned near impossible for him to imagine ever wanting to have a sexual or emotional relationship with the teen._ _

__"This is what's going to happen. I'll set up a meeting with Xavier, talk with him about what he wants and then all four of us will sit down and come up with some ground rules for your relationship. I want both of you to think about what you want, whether it's okay or not for Justin and Xavier to be together in your apartment, which relationship is the primary one and which is the secondary or if you're going to drop those designations all together, what's Xavier's involvement with your other friends, with Gus." Drew saw Brian tense up. "You need to think about these things and we'll come together and discuss them. I think it'd be better if Justin and Xavier didn't talk about these things before our meeting. In fact, I think, Justin, that you should avoid seeing Xavier outside of your normal, everyday activities. I don't want you to talk to him alone or talk about your relationship with him present."_ _

__"What about me and Brian?"_ _

__"I think it'd be a good idea if you spent some time apart as well. Give yourself some breathing room, some time to think."_ _

__"You want me to move out?"_ _

__"Just until we meet." He watched Justin look over at Brian, could see the need and desire in his eyes. "I want you to remember, nothing is set in stone. You change your mind about something, you call me, you bring it up at our meeting and we'll talk about it. Most of all, I want you to be sure of what you want, what you need. This is the time to be selfish, to be up front with each other. And me. If you find that you can't go through with this, then we'll work on figuring something else out."_ _

__"Us breaking up," Brian said._ _

__"If necessary." He got up and retrieved his calender. "When's Xavier coming back?"_ _

__"Tomorrow," replied Justin._ _

__"Okay, I'll try to meet with Xavier Monday or Tuesday. . . so, let's shoot for a meeting on Friday with all of us."_ _

__"That long?" Justin asked._ _

__"I do have other clients, you know. And a life," he added. Handed Justin his notebook. "Write down Xavier's number and I'll give him a call tomorrow night."_ _

__Justin did so and gave Drew his notebook back. "He's getting in around six, I think he said."_ _

__Standing, Drew led them to the door. "You need anything, you call me," he reminded them. Watched them exit the outer office. Stood, leaning against the door. "Jesus." Had he done the right thing? Would it have been better to let them dissolve things and then work with them separately to rebuild their relationship? He didn't know. At least, this way they had a chance. He hoped._ _

__

__Brian stood by the window looking at the traffic go by, acutely aware of Justin packing a bag to take with him to Deb's. And if he could have fallen forward and the glass not been there to stop him, he wouldn't have cared. He heard Justin walking down the steps and across the room. Knew that he was by the sofa. Brian turned. Justin had his suit bag slung over one shoulder, his knapsack over the other. "You want me to drive you?"_ _

__"I'll get a cab."_ _

__"You going to your mom's?"_ _

__"Deb's. It's quieter." He looked down, then up again. "I'll see you Friday."_ _

__"Yeah." Turned away so as not to see Justin leave even though he wouldn't have seen him anyway as the tears had already begun to flow._ _

__The door shut._ _

__The door shut and he felt the tears begin. Walked downstairs feeling his way cause he couldn't see shit. Paused at the bottom to cry. When the jag was over, he gathered his stuff again and went out into the afternoon light and hailed a cab._ _

__On the way over to Deb's house, he tried to figure out what he'd tell her. Fuck, he was so in for a two-hour lecture. He could only hope she'd gone into the diner but he wasn't going to hold his breath. She usually took Saturday afternoon off and worked the late shift. First her and then, after she called his mom, then Jen would come over and give him a disappointed look. In a way, her disappointed look was worse than Deb yelling at him. But nothing was worse than Brian's quiet, "Yeah." That was the worst of all. Feeling another tear fighting its way out of the corner of his eye, he squeezed his lids shut and took a deep breath. Hoped that was enough._ _

__He paid the driver and walked up to the porch slowly. Knocked and waited._ _

__She peeked through the window and smiled, glad to see him. For the moment. Then she opened the door and saw his bags. "Sunshine?"_ _

__"I can pay room and board."_ _

__Saying nothing, she let him through. Waited until he'd put down his stuff in the livingroom. "What's going on?"_ _

__"It's my fault."_ _

__"Christ." And as Vic appeared, said, "It's his fault."_ _

__"Well," Vic said, "it can't always be Brian's."_ _

__"But, at least, I'm used to his fuck-ups." Went to get some fizzy soda from the fridge. Popped the top. "Spill."_ _

__"I slept with Xavier."_ _

__"Oh, fuck." Brian had said that he would. "So, apologize already."_ _

__Justin hesitated._ _

__"Oh, Jesus Christ. You're throwing away- -"_ _

__"We're working it out."_ _

__"Then what the fuck are you doing here?"_ _

__"It's complicated."_ _

__She sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out two chairs. "Well, you're in luck, cause I'm off tonight and there's nothing on TV."_ _

__Knowing he couldn't avoid it, Justin took one of the proffered chairs. Started to speak and, instead, gave into the tears that had been building up in the cab._ _

__Deb wanted to shake him. And she wanted to hug him too because she knew how much he loved Brian and if he'd risked all of that to be with Xavier then it was serious. So she stood and hugged him and let him cry against her and resolved to stop by the loft cause he wasn't the only one in need of comforting._ _

__Leaving them, Vic went upstairs and called Mikey._ _

__

__The pills were finally kicking in. Everything was becoming hazy and the pain in his chest was receding. Closing his eyes, he resigned himself to sleep. And then the banging began. But he decided to ignore it. Nothing important. . ._ _

__Someone was shaking him. And his eyelids felt like they weighed about a ton each. He managed to work his mouth although it seemed as if his lips were attached to a puppet and he was the inexpert puppeteer. “Go. . . away.”_ _

__”Wake up. Brian, what did you take?”_ _

__”Sleeping. . . “_ _

__”I know you’re sleeping. Now wake up.”_ _

__”Honey, you can’t sleep until you tell us what you took.”_ _

__He tried again. “Sleeping. . . pills.”_ _

__”How many?” That was Ted, always concerned with numbers._ _

__He couldn’t say. But he held up two fingers. Heard Em sigh with relief. “If we can trust him,” Michael said. That was the last thing he remembered._ _

__Mikey was lying next to him. Why was Michael in bed with him? Brian sat up. Tried to remember. Something about Michael and the guys showing up this afternoon. What time was it? He looked over Mikey at the clock. One in the morning. Fuck, he shouldn’t have taken the damn things, now he’d be up all night._ _

__Michael stirred, opened his eyes. ”You’re awake.”_ _

__”Yeah. The guys still here?”_ _

__”I sent them home hours ago.”_ _

__Brian swung his legs over the edge of the bed and paused. It never ceased to amaze him that he could take all kinds of fucking drugs but sleeping pills made him feel like he’d been hit over the head with a sledgehammer about a dozen times once they wore off._ _

__”You okay?” Michael got up and walked around to his side of the bed._ _

__”No.” Tried to smile but it hurt too much. Physically and emotionally._ _

__”Uncle Vic said Justin was at my mom’s and that I should come over here.” He sat next to his friend. “What’s wrong?”_ _

__”Everything,” Brian replied and he turned to Michael and laid his head upon his shoulder as Mikey embraced him._ _

__Once he’d finished telling Michael what had happened, Mikey said, “You can’t do it.”_ _

__”Yeah, I can.”_ _

__”But why? It’s not what you want.”_ _

__He could feel the tears still crawling down his cheeks. “Because I’ve only ever loved two people in my entire life, besides you and Lindsay. One is gone, and I can’t lose the other.”_ _

__

__Justin stared up at the ceiling. He’d been lying there, awake, for the past two hours. Had gone to bed just to get away from Vic and Deb. They’d tried to be supportive, to be impartial, but he could hear them thinking, Asshole. Brian gave him everything and look what he did. Fucked it all up. Just like a fucking kid. Throwing back the covers, he sat up in bed. There was no point in pretending. He couldn’t sleep._ _

__Then he saw it. His journal. Picked it up and began writing._ _

___I feel so alone. Despite loving two people and having them love me, I’m alone. I have a partner who’s sleeping by himself tonight and a lover who’s wondering if we have a future together. I don’t know what else I could have done. I tried so hard to make things right and all I did was fuck things up even worse than they were. But I have to try. Deb doesn’t understand. Brian doesn’t understand. They think I’m being selfish. Maybe I am but I can’t stand the idea of not having Xavier in my life. I know I shouldn’t want him too but I do. I do want him. But that doesn’t mean that I love Brian any less. My mom is never going to understand. I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to her and I need her to understand, I need to have someone on my side._ _ _

__The day crawled by, crippled by Justin’s absence. Limped to a close. Brian ordered take-out Thai and then picked at it. Put it in the fridge. The phone rang around eight o’clock. Thinking it was Michael checking up on him, he answered. “Yeah?” Silence. He could hear breathing. And then he knew who it was. Xavier. Justin hadn’t spoken to him then. And that, out of everything that had happened, made him feel better. It meant Justin had kept his word. Maybe there was hope for them yet. Softly, he said, “He’s not here.” The line clicked as the connection closed._ _

__

__

__Class was like some kind of torture devised by the Spanish Inquisition. Which was made worse by the fact that Xavier sat two rows and four seats back from him and he could feel his eyes on him, watching him as he pretended to listen to their instructor's lecture. Watching him as he gathered his books and made for the studio where he sat on his stool in front of his drafting table and stared at the blank page. Xavier was back. He wondered if Dr. Drew had gotten in contact with him. Wondered if he should call the therapist and ask, then decided not to. He'd find out soon enough. Friday was only four days away. But it could have been next year as far as he was concerned. Would Friday never come?_ _

__

__

__Sauntering in slowly like he normally walked, Xavier took the seat the psychiatrist indicated. He'd known that Brian and Justin had seen a therapist, had even seen him in court once, but he hadn't ever imagined he'd be going to one, to this one. And this guy didn't look like his idea of a therapist. Didn't look anything like Bob Newhart or Frasier Crane or even Robin Williams in that lame-ass Matt Damon movie. This guy looked normal. Kinda cute. In a regular white guy kind of way. Least he didn't look like Brian. Or Justin. An older Justin. Xavier didn't think he could have stood it if the guy had been like either of them._ _

__"Xavier, I'm Dr. Becker, but you can call me Drew if you like."_ _

__"Can I call you Dr. Drew?"_ _

__Drew smiled. "Justin does." Opened his notebook. "You mind?"_ _

__"No tape recorder?"_ _

__"I think better if I write it down. Besides, I hate listening to the sound of my own voice." He gestured to a pitcher of water and a glass. "Feel free."_ _

__"Thanks." But he made no move towards the water._ _

__"I've asked you here today to discuss your relationship with Justin. Brian and Justin have been to see me and we think we've come up with a plan of action but I wanted to meet with you, get your feelings on it." With that said, Drew proceeded to recount his meetings with Brian and Justin and to outline the kind of relationship Brian and Justin had agreed to pursue._ _

__"A threesome?" Xavier asked in disbelief. Jesus, his nana was going to freak out when she heard about that. Shit. A threesome?_ _

__"Not in the strict sense," Drew explained. "I know that you and Brian have a number of issues to work out so no one's expecting you two to engage in any kind of relationship, physical or otherwise, until you feel more comfortable around one another. That might not ever happen. We don't know at this point what the future will hold. But this is where we're starting. If you agree."_ _

__Xavier was quiet for a while. Then he said, "I want Justin. I wish he would leave Brian and be with me but I know that's not going to happen. So I'll take what I can get."_ _

__"You think that's the best thing for you?"_ _

__"It's all I have."_ _

__Looking him over, taking in his features, Drew said, "You're an attractive, smart young man. You could find someone else, someone who wasn't already involved."_ _

__"I don't want anyone else. I want Justin."_ _

__"And what about Brian? What about the fact that he took Justin for his partner, thinking they'd made a commitment to one another?"_ _

__"He's a grown man. He ought to be able to look out for himself. I can't care about him." He couldn't, and not feel guilty._ _

__"You're going to have to," Drew explained, "if this relationship is going to work."_ _

__

__

__He'd never been more nervous about talking to his mom since he'd come out. She'd been through so much, trying to understand him and Brian and even defending them to his father before his dad had come around but he couldn't begin to anticipate how she'd react to his latest news. He figured it would help that she actually liked Xavier but that was when he'd only been a friend. Luckily Molly was over to a friend's house when he stopped by and Jen was one signature away from selling a very expensive house so she was in a good mood. That would help. A little._ _

__After giving her a peck on the cheek, he slid onto a barstool. She was in the kitchen fixing dinner in anticipation of Molly returning in an hour. "You staying, honey?"_ _

__"I can."_ _

__"Brian coming?"_ _

__He shook his head. Shit, it was now or never._ _

__"So, how do you like your room at Deb's?"_ _

__She knew. "You know?"_ _

__Putting down the chicken she'd been stuffing, Jen gave him 'the mother look' as Brian called it. "You didn't really think she wouldn't tell me, did you?"_ _

__"No."_ _

__"But," she added, picking up the chicken once more, "she wouldn't tell me why. That's your job."_ _

__Justin watched her hands as she worked, fascinated by the motions, and wondered if that was what intrigued Brian about him when he cooked since the man invariably came in to sit and watch him. Finally, no point in delaying any longer, he told her. "I went to see Xavier during Spring Break to get him to come back to school."_ _

__"He was leaving? Why?" She'd been to a couple of shows at the school and had been very impressed by the young man's work._ _

__"Because he was in love with me," he answered._ _

__Jen paused. _No, Justin. . ._ "And did you get him to come back?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__She took note of the one word answer. Which meant there was more. And, of course, there was more. He was living back at Deb's place which meant there was a whole lot more._ _

__Knowing she was waiting for him to explain, he did. "I love him too, Mom."_ _

__She placed the chicken in the pan and arranged the vegetables she'd chopped around it. "And Brian knows."_ _

__"We've been to see Dr. Drew."_ _

__Good. "And what did he say?"_ _

__He paused again. Everything else had been simple compared to explaining their planned course of action. "We're going to try. . . to try. . ."_ _

__"Try what, honey?"_ _

__"I'm going to keep seeing Xavier."_ _

__For a moment she pretended not to hear him, to be engrossed with the fucking vegetables and chicken but she couldn't pretend forever. "And what does that mean for you and Brian?"_ _

__"I'm. . . not leaving Brian."_ _

__She dropped the potato she'd been holding. "Meaning what?"_ _

__Justin looked down, then glanced up at her as he said, "We're all going to be in a relationship together. At least that's the goal. But right now- -"_ _

__"Justin! What does that mean?" she asked._ _

__"It means that I'm involved with them both and, eventually, they might be involved with one another."_ _

__Jen left the kitchen and walked into the den, sat down in the first chair she reached. Her head was swimming. How was she ever going to explain this to Craig? He'd only just started coming around to accepting Brian and now this? "Your father is never going to understand."_ _

__Following her, Justin asked, "Do you?"_ _

__"No," she told him, "honey, I don't. I don't understand at all. I'm sorry." The smell of raw onion on her hands was making her slightly ill. She returned to the kitchen to wash them._ _

__Justin paused where he stood. "Mom?"_ _

__"Honey," she began, then stopped. Washed her hands, covered the broiler with a top, and put it in the pre-heated oven. Simple actions. Things she could do with her eyes closed. Comforted by them, she began to clear off the countertop. Simple actions._ _

__

__

__He'd accepted Lindsay's invitation to dinner knowing he'd have to explain what was going on with him and Justin. So far his friends had been very careful not to prod him too much regarding their living arrangements, temporary though they might be. And he hadn't volunteered any information, preferring to suffer in silence. Mikey was the only one he'd told and he'd sworn Michael not to talk about it with anyone else. And now, here he was, sitting in Lindsay's livingroom about to spill his guts. It was Thursday and tomorrow he'd go over to Drew's and sign away part of his life. That's how it felt to him but he'd do it because he didn't have any other choice. That scared him and, yet, he'd made peace with it a long time ago, that'd he do anything for Justin, no matter what._ _

__"Carrot stick?"_ _

__Brian looked up at the tray Mel held. "No. Thanks."_ _

__She turned away and set the tray on the table top. "Suit yourself." Hostess duties done for the moment, she sat down and studied him._ _

__"Something wrong?" he asked, growing uncomfortable with her scrutiny._ _

__"Gus looks a lot like you."_ _

__"DNA will tell."_ _

__"I wonder if he'll be a lot like you."_ _

__Instead of saying something smart, he answered quietly, "I hope not."_ _

__Mel sat forward, worried. "Brian. . ."_ _

__At that moment Gus came out of the kitchen dragging Beh behind him. Made a beeline for his daddy and demanded Brian pick him up. Gripped Brian's neck with arms that had grown surprisingly strong in the past few months and bussed him on the cheek. Kiss delivered, he settled down, leaning against Brian's arm and chest. Mel took a cracker from the platter and handed it to him, which he nibbled, his eyes never leaving his daddy's face._ _

__Not knowing how to approach the topic of Justin, Mel decided to leave it to Lindsay. She was a lot better when it came to handling Brian. In fact, outside of Debbie, she was probably the only person who could. And Justin. But Justin wasn't here. And Debbie had vowed to stay out of it since Justin was staying with her. Which left Lindsay to deal with Brian._ _

__She came into the dining room with their entree in a casserole dish. "Dinner is served," she announced._ _

__Although Gus had a high chair, he preferred to sit in Brian's lap, so he did, and his Dada fed him since he didn't seem to have much appetite of his own. Gus more than made up for his lack of enthusiasm._ _

__"So what happens now?" Lindsay asked, no preamble needed because they all knew what she was talking about._ _

__"We meet tomorrow and figure out what to do."_ _

__"You're partners. Justin knows that. He'll stop seeing Xavier and- -"_ _

__"No. He won't." He didn't know how much Justin had told anyone, suspected that he hadn't explained the terms of their reconcilliation thoroughly._ _

__"He loves you."_ _

__"He loves us both."_ _

__Mel broke in. "So what does that mean? He can't have the both of you."_ _

__He paused. "Yeah, he can. And he will."_ _

__Lindsay slowly lowered her fork. "Bri? What does that mean?"_ _

__"It means that tomorrow we're meeting, all of us, including Xavier, and we're. . . we're coming up with rules about how we all. . ." He looked down, unable to continue._ _

__"You mean. . ." began Mel, "Justin and Xavier are going to keep seeing each other?"_ _

__"Yeah."_ _

__Gus looked up at Brian. "Dada!" But Brian didn't say anything, just handed Gus his sippy cup. The baby drank noisily._ _

__"Christ," said Mel. "That's fucked up."_ _

__"Mel!" Lindsay scolded._ _

__"Well, it is."_ _

__Brian agreed, "It is." Laughed._ _

__"I can't believe Justin is doing this to you."_ _

__"Doing what?" Brian asked. "Doing exactly what I've always told him to do? Look after yourself. Never lie about what you want. Well, he wants us both. And he can have us both because neither one of us wants to be without him. So we do this thing and we live with it."_ _

__"But it's not what you want," said Lindsay._ _

__"It's all I can do."_ _

__She persisted. "Bri, don't do this."_ _

__"I can't lose him."_ _

__"But you are," she countered. "Worse, you're giving him away."_ _

__Heading off any further discussion, he said, "It's done, Lindsay. And there's nothing you can say to change my mind. I know what I have to do."_ _

__"Do you remember telling me about you and Cam? About what you offered to do to keep him? And how it made you feel? Do you?"_ _

__"Don't- -"_ _

__"This is the same thing, Bri. Only, it's worse. Because Cam was smart enough to know that you couldn't do it and stay true to yourself. And he loved you enough to let you go. No matter how hard it was or how much it hurt."_ _

__Brian stood and handed her Gus. "I can't talk about this anymore."_ _

__Holding out his arms, Gus said, "Go, Dada."_ _

__Mel translated. "He wants to go with you."_ _

__"Not tonight, Gus," Brian told him._ _

__"Dada, go."_ _

__"Gus. . ."_ _

__"Mel, can you take Gus?" said Lindsay, starting to lift the baby towards her partner._ _

__But Gus clutched her shirt. "No!"_ _

__Mel stood and reached for him. "Gus- -"_ _

__"No. Dada, no."_ _

__Brian turned away. "I can't do this." Walked out into the foyer to grab his coat._ _

__"Dada!" Gus began to cry, the sound of which followed Brian out to the car where he sat, gripping the steering wheel, head cradled on his arms. She was right. Lindsay was right. He hated this, hated what he was about to do, hated himself for doing it, but he would. He'd walk into that office and he'd give Justin away. But, at least, he'd be able to keep part of him, something, and maybe it'd be enough. Maybe._ _

__Mel opened the door on his side. "Lindsay changed the sheets on the guest bed. And Gus misses his daddy." Message delivered, she walked back towards the house. After a moment, he got out and followed.  
Sitting in the tub with Gus in his arms, Brian concentrated on bathing the baby and ignoring all lingering thoughts and doubts about tomorrow. Gus laughed and splashed the water and Brian found that he couldn't resist the toddler's joy. Laughing too, he resigned himself to dealing with tomorrow when tomorrow came. Right now he had a bath to enjoy. Finding Gus' rubber duck, he squeaked it until Gus collapsed against his chest giggling._ _

__Out in the hall, Lindsay smiled and went to join Mel._ _

__

__

___I love him. Even if he thinks I don't. Even if he thinks I'm wrong for hurting him. And I guess I am. I guess if I loved him more I'd be able to do what he wanted. No one understands. I don't even know if I do. It's just something I feel. I need Xavier. But I need Brian too. I've wanted to call him all week. It's been hard enough seeing Xavier in class and not being able to talk to him but I haven't seen Brian once. He hasn't been in the diner at all. I kept hoping he'd come in for a turkey sandwich, the way he used to, not really wanting a turkey sandwich but wanting to see me. Needing an excuse. But he hasn't. I thought about going by the loft, pretending I'd left something but I didn't because Brian would have known I was lying. He ought to be used to me lying by now._ _ _

___I never meant to hurt him._ _ _

__Just seeing the three of them together made Drew doubt the wisdom of his plan. There was enough attitude in the room to put a fashion show full of supermodels to shame. Maybe it would have been better if Brian and Justin had called it quits and started over. Except that he knew how much they loved one another and neither one was willing to quit, not yet. After this session, who knew? Maybe one of them would._ _

__They'd taken their seats, Justin sitting between his two lovers but not looking at either one. They all kept their eyes on Drew. Under different circumstances he would have been flattered to have the attention of three hot guys focused on him._ _

__Sensing that they were beginning to grow a little antsy, he began. "We're here today to talk about how the three of you are going to co-exist in this new relationship you're building, this vee. If it's to have any chance of being successful, I think you need to establish some guidelines and rules of behavior." He paused to give them a chance to object before he continued. When no objections came forth, he went on. "I've explained to Xavier the kinds of guidelines and rules that I'm talking about so he understands and has had time to think about them as well. So, I think we should start with the question of how Justin sees his relationship with each of you."_ _

__A line appeared between Justin's brows. "I don't understand."_ _

__"Well, do you consider your relationship with Brian to be the primary relationship and your relationship with Xavier to be the secondary relationship or is it the other way around?"_ _

__"Why do I have to say at all?"_ _

__"Because I need to know," Brian replied._ _

__"Because we all need to know," Drew added. "Total honesty, that's the one way this is going to work. We all need to know where everyone else stands. So, what are your thoughts?"_ _

__"If I say that Brian and I are the primary relationship, what does that mean?"_ _

__"That your relationship with Brian is your primary bonding, the one you'd preserve if the vee dissolved."_ _

__"But isn't the point not to dissolve it?"_ _

__"It is, because you've all agreed to participate, but if something should happen and that changes, the primary relationship is the one you'd try to keep intact." He gave Justin a few minutes to think. "Do you still agree that your relationship with Brian constitutes a primary bonding?"_ _

__"Yes." Justin felt Xavier shift next to him but the teen said nothing._ _

__"This doesn't mean that you're not invested in your relationship with Xavier."_ _

__"It just means that I'm not as important to him as Brian," complained Xavier._ _

__"No, it means that his relationship with Brian is more binding than his relationship with you."_ _

__"Because they're wearing rings? I could give him a ring too."_ _

__Brian sat forward in his chair, "Do it and this whole fucking thing is over."_ _

__"Brian- -" began Drew and the man sat back, glaring at the world. "Xavier, the fact that they've exchanged rings represents a different level of committment than you and Justin have achieved as of this moment."_ _

__Seizing on the opening left him, Xavier said, "But it doesn't mean that it won't ever happen between us."_ _

__"Between all of you," Drew clarified. "Although we're working towards creating a stable vee, eventually, the goal is for the three of you to participate equally in your relationship. For there to be a bond between all of you."_ _

__Xavier assented. "I'm cool, then. Long as I know where I stand."_ _

__"Then let's go on to how to divide up Justin's time."_ _

__"What do you mean?" asked Brian. "Justin lives with me. That's not gonna change."_ _

__"But he and Xavier need time to work on their relationship."_ _

__"They see each other at the Institute every fuckin' day."_ _

__"That's not enough."_ _

__"The hell it isn't."_ _

__"Brian- -"_ _

__"So what? He spends part of his time with me and part with Xavier?"_ _

__Drew hurried to clarify things. "As you've pointed out, they'll see each other every day at the Institute but I think we need to set aside one night when they can be together. It'd be their night, no matter what. A date night."_ _

__Brian said firmly, "Not in the loft."_ _

__"I live there too," Justin said._ _

__"And I pay the fuckin' mortgage. Not in the loft."_ _

__"You're not being fair."_ _

__"Fair? You want to talk to me about fair?" He looked away, then back again. "I'm here, agreeing to give up a night with you, so that you, my partner, my lover, can fuck someone else- -"_ _

__"One night," Xavier complained. "One fucking night."_ _

__Brian stood and pointed at Xavier, "You're lucky you're getting anything at all! I should fucking kick your ass is what I should do instead of- -"_ _

__Drew stood as well. "Brian- -"_ _

__"- - sitting here like some fucking idiot discussing this shit!"_ _

__"Brian!"_ _

__"Fuck you!" He pushed past Drew and headed out the door, the therapist behind him, Justin staring after him shiny-eyed and worried._ _

__Drew followed the sound of Brian's footsteps as he stormed into the restroom. Heard something rattle and fall. Went inside to find the trash can knocked over and Brian breathing hard._ _

__"Fuck!"_ _

__"Brian. . . Brian, calm down."_ _

__"Get away from me."_ _

__"Brian- -"_ _

__"I mean it." He kicked the door of one of the stalls, it banged against the inside of the compartment. Turning away, he walked towards the window and paused, walked forward again and stopped. His entire body vibrated with anger._ _

__Calmly, Drew leaned against a sink and watched him. Waiting for the moment to pass._ _

__"I- -" Brian ran his hand through his hair, stymied for words._ _

__"It's okay."_ _

__He made a choking sound and laid his head against the wall. His shoulders shook._ _

__Drew remained where he was while Brian cried out his anger and frustration. When he was done and had faced him again, he spoke. "You don't have to do this."_ _

__"Yes, I do."_ _

__"No. There's always another choice."_ _

__"That's not an option."_ _

__Pushing off the sink, Drew started towards the door. "I can't let you do this."_ _

__"You can't stop me," Brian told him and it was true. "You don't have to help us do it, but you can't stop us."_ _

__"You're gonna tear yourself apart," Drew warned._ _

__"Not if you're there."_ _

__Wishing he hadn't stopped smoking six years ago, Drew hungered for a cigarette. Knew that if he really wanted one, he could bum a smoke off of Brian. But he didn't really want it. He just thought he did. "Brian..."_ _

__"I can do this. I promise." He sounded like a little boy. "I won't fuck it up."_ _

__"I'm worried about you."_ _

__He sniffled. "Don't be." Tried to finger his hair back into place, which was ironic considering how wild it generally appeared._ _

__"Brian? If it becomes too much, get out. Don't let it destroy you."_ _

__He looked at himself in the mirror, glanced away. "Losing Justin would destroy me."_ _

__They returned to the room to find Justin and Xavier just as they'd left them, separated, and giving no indication that either one had done much comforting while they were gone as both looked red-eyed and upset. Brian took his seat without speaking and Drew attempted to put them back on track._ _

__"So, there are two issues to resolve. One, whether or not Justin and Xavier should spend time in the loft and two, how many date nights do they get?"_ _

__Justin spoke up. "Brian's right. Xavier and I shouldn't be together like that in the loft. Its Brian's home and even though its mine too, I can't ask him to leave his own apartment so that I can be with someone else."_ _

__"What about the number of nights?"_ _

__"I'll settle for one."_ _

__Drew turned to the other teenager. "You agree?"_ _

__"I don't have a choice."_ _

__As he'd told Brian, Drew corrected him. "Yes, you do."_ _

__And, as Brian had said, Xavier assured him that it wasn't a choice._ _

__Then Drew asked Justin, "What about you and Brian? Do you think you need a date night too?"_ _

__He nodded. "Just for us."_ _

__"When?"_ _

__"Saturday."_ _

__"Brian?"_ _

__"Fine."_ _

__He'd been rather subdued since returning from the restroom and Drew was waiting for the next outburst. It was only a matter of time. He hoped. It wasn't good for Brian to keep his feelings bottled up inside. He'd done that all of his life and was only just getting used to expressing his true feelings, not the ones he allowed other people to see because they didn't matter, but the ones he kept hidden inside, ashamed and afraid to share._ _

__Moving onto the next issue, Drew asked, "Is it all right for Justin and Xavier to be at the loft under other circumstances? Let's say if it's not one of their date nights?"_ _

__Brian said softly, "I don't want them fucking in our bed."_ _

__"It wouldn't be a sexual situation," Drew explained._ _

__Thinking for a moment, Brian gave his answer. "Not right now. I'm sorry. Maybe in time but I just. . . Not yet."_ _

__"Justin?"_ _

__"Okay."_ _

__"Xavier?"_ _

__"I wouldn't feel comfortable over there anyway," he admitted._ _

__That was relatively easy. He had a feeling the next issue would not be. "Justin and Brian's son, Gus, have developed a rather close relationship and- -"_ _

__"No," Brian said simply and the tone of his voice left no doubt that this was one issue on which he would not budge._ _

__Xavier started to speak but Justin laid a hand on his arm and gave his head a little shake._ _

__"Next issue. Sex. Have you and Justin been having sexual intercourse without condoms?" Drew asked Brian._ _

__"Yes."_ _

__"Do you think it's wise to continue?"_ _

__"No."_ _

__"Then, can we make a safer sex rule? All sexual intercourse has to take place using condoms and you all agree to practice safer sex." When no one disagreed, Drew made a notation on his pad. "What about financial support?"_ _

__Xavier laughed. "I don't have a cent to give anybody."_ _

__"Then should Justin contribute to your welfare?"_ _

__"I don't expect him to. He can pay for a date every now and then."_ _

__There was no need to ask about Brian. No one was that foolish as to think he'd give Xavier a penny to keep him out of the poorhouse._ _

__"What about social occasions? How do you feel about the three of you going out or being with your circle of friends at the same time?"_ _

__With a look to Brian, Justin said, "I'd like to be able to hang out with our friends and Brian and bring Xavier too. . . but I don't think that would be such a good idea right now."_ _

__"Your friends would probably spit on me anyway."_ _

__"Okay. Family occasions. Suppose Justin's mom invites him to dinner, can he bring the both of you?"_ _

__Brian said nothing._ _

__"Xavier?" asked Drew because he saw the way the teen was shaking his head._ _

__"I feel like his mistress, like I'm somebody he has to hide. I can't hang out with him and his friends, I can't go to his house, to his mom's house. . ."_ _

__"Then go," Brian told him. "I just won't."_ _

__"Brian- -" began Justin._ _

__"She can have two dinners and invite each of us or she can have one and we can go or you and he can go, I don't really care. But this isn't some kind of rainbow coalition and we're not all going to get along, no matter how much we talk about it. The best I can do is to put up with it. That's all I'm offering, Justin. And these pipe dreams about the three of us being a triad are so far in the future that I can't see it. It might happen, I'm not saying that it won't, I'm just saying it's not going to happen today or tomorrow or next week or next month. So you can be with him and you can be with me, we're just not going to be together."_ _

__"Separate but equal," said Xavier. "If that's the way it's got to be, then I can deal. My people are used to that."_ _

__And for the first time since they'd sat down in Drew's office, Brian smiled. Granted, it was just the twitch of his upper lip but it was a start and Justin saw it happen. It gave him hope._ _

__"Then the last rule I'd suggest you adopting is to be honest with one another. No matter how much it hurts or might potentially hurt. Without honesty, you have nothing," Drew told them._ _

__Promising to send them a copy of the rules they'd drawn up, Drew scheduled a follow-up appointment for a week from next Thursday. "And if you need to talk to me before then, either together or individually, give me a call. Just try not to do it on Saturday or Sunday morning as I like to sleep in." He winked. "And Sam likes to sleep in with me."_ _

__So here he was, chauffer to his partner and his partner's lover. Was there no end to the degredation? Of course not. Because now he had to watch Justin get out with Xavier and walk towards the dorm. At the last moment he turned away, not wanting to see them kiss._ _

__Softly, Justin kissed Xavier, ran his fingers over the other teen's tight braids. "Nana Rose did a good job," he whispered._ _

__Xavier smiled. "How'd you know?"_ _

__"Cause she loves you."_ _

__"How about you?"_ _

__He nodded. Drew apart. Waved._ _

__Eyes straight ahead, Brian said as Justin got in the Jeep, "You wanna get your stuff tonight or wait until tomorrow?"_ _

__"Tonight."_ _

__He pulled out and made a U-turn._ _

__Stopping in front of Deb's house, he waited while Justin went inside and got his bag. He was gone about five minutes, probably giving Debbie a progress report while he packed._ _

__As he drove back to the loft, Brian tried to imagine what it'd be like, being together after being apart for so long. Just feeling Justin next to him in the Jeep was giving him all kinds of ideas and yet he was still so angry with Justin. How to reconcile his body's desires and his heart's disappointment? He didn't know._ _

__Justin put away his stuff and stowed his suit bag in the closet. He was more than aware of Brian watching him. How long had it been since they'd been together? Two weeks and he wanted to make love to Brian so badly. And he could tell that Brian wanted him. He could feel the desire like a warm fire. The sound of Brian's bare feet on the floor warned him before the man touched him._ _

__He didn't care, didn't care what Justin had done with Xavier, all that mattered was that he was with him now, that he was turning in his arms and raising his face and parting his lips. They kissed and Brian forgot about anything else except this. "Baby," he whispered and Justin tightened his arms around him._ _

__It was like the first time, the way his heart was pounding, except that the first time was years in the past- - years, he couldn't believe it- - and he and Brian were wearing matching platinum bands, and so many things had happened since the night they met that they were hardly the same people anymore, except that one thing hadn't changed: Brian still excited him beyond his wildest dreams._ _

__Pausing for a moment to slip on a condom, Brian sank into Justin with a sigh. The teenager's knees pressing into his sides, he closed his eyes._ _

__

__

__At first it was as if nothing had changed; he and Justin shared a bed and a life, getting up and showering together, eating breakfast together before he drove Justin to the Institute or the diner depending on his schedule, meeting up in the evenings for dinner, lying awake for the teen to return from the studio, making love before falling asleep with Justin's arm around his waist. And then Friday night came._ _

__He'd almost decided to stay in but, at the last minute, changed his mind and joined the guys at Woody's. Mikey was there with Jeff and Em and Ted, as usual, were dateless. He hoped none of them asked him about Justin but he wasn't about to bet his life on it. Sure enough, he had just sat down next to Mikey with his beer when his best friend asked, "Where's the Boy Wonder?"_ _

__As casually as he could, he replied, "With Xavier."_ _

__The guys exchanged looks. He pretended not to notice._ _

__"Anybody for a game of pool?" Emmett asked and he and Ted racked them up._ _

__Brian shook his head, he'd watch. While Michael watched him. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. "What?"_ _

__"You're gonna sit here and hang with us while Justin's out there- -"_ _

__"Don't," he warned._ _

__"While Justin's out there fucking Xavier."_ _

__Brian left the bar. Got to the Jeep and paused, hearing Michael behind him. "What the hell do you want me to do?" he asked._ _

__"Act like you've got some goddamn balls, for one," Michael told him._ _

__Ignoring the dig, Brian replied, "It's just like when I went out tricking."_ _

__"Yeah, and you were wrong too."_ _

__"Why don't you go back inside and take care of your own motherfucking relationship and leave mine alone?"_ _

__"Because I'm not the one sharing my boyfriend with somebody else."_ _

__"Then stay the fuck out of it." Snatching open the door, he climbed inside and took off like he had a legion of demons behind him._ _

__

__If they’d been counting on her approval, they were going to be sadly disappointed. Rennie had agreed to go out with them on their date night but she intended to set them straight as to how she felt about things._ _

__”You are so wrong,” she told them as they sat waiting for their pizza to arrive. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”_ _

__”I can’t believe you care,” Xavier told her. “Ms. Radical Feminist. I thought you didn’t believe in relationships and that kind of shit.”_ _

__”I don’t. But you do,” she told Justin. “How could you do this? How could you betray Brian like this? I thought you loved him.”_ _

__”I do.”_ _

__”Then what the fuck are you doing here with Xavier?” She turned to the other teen. “And you. I used to respect you. Because even though you loved Justin and wanted him, you stayed away from him, you did the right thing.”_ _

__”So, it was okay that I was miserable?”_ _

__”That’s life. We don’t always get everything we want.”_ _

__He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not going to apologize for having Justin. Not to you or anybody else.”_ _

__”You tell your grandmother yet?”_ _

__Shamefaced, he replied, ”No.”_ _

__Rennie stood. “Come talk to me after you do. Tell me how proud she is of you.” With that, she left._ _

__They were both quiet for a while after she left. She’d managed to hit both of them where they lived. She’d only said aloud what they’d both felt all along and yet it didn’t matter. They couldn’t, wouldn’t turn back. Not now. Worse, for Justin, she'd echoed Daphne's sentiments when he'd talked to her on the telephone. She'd decided not to come home for Spring Break, opting to go to Fort Lauderdale with some girls from her dorm and had called to break the news to him when he'd surprised her with news of his own._ _

___"So, wait, you and Brian broke up?"_ _ _

___"No. We're still together."_ _ _

___"But you and Xavier are together too?"_ _ _

___"Yeah."_ _ _

___"What does that mean?"_ _ _

___"It means I love them both."_ _ _

___"Justin, this isn't the same thing as liking chocolate and vanilla ice cream. You can't love them both."_ _ _

___"I can and I do."_ _ _

___"But you and Brian are a real couple. You've got a ring and everything."_ _ _

___"So a ring makes it real?"_ _ _

___"No, but I thought it was real to you."_ _ _

___"It is. I still love him, Daph. That hasn't changed."_ _ _

___"Except that you love Xavier too and you spend time with him, you have sex with him. How do you think that makes Brian feel?"_ _ _

___"How do you think it made me feel when he was with other men?"_ _ _

___"But it wasn't the same, Justin."_ _ _

___"How?"_ _ _

___"You weren't a couple then."_ _ _

___"So if I didn't have the ring, it'd be okay?"_ _ _

___"I'm not saying that."_ _ _

___"Then what are you saying?"_ _ _

___"The ring is just a symbol. You made him a promise when you took that ring and now you're breaking it."_ _ _

___"You don't understand."_ _ _

___"You're right. I don't. What about all the sacrifices he made to be with you, all of the things he went through for you with Chris Hobbs and the bashing and the trial and your parents and everything? Doesn't that mean anything?"_ _ _

___He hadn't had an answer for her just as he'd had no real answer for Rennie tonight._ _ _

___Brian heard the door open and close. Braced himself for Justin’s arrival. He didn’t trust himself not to lash out at the teen, hoped that Justin refrained from making any overtures towards him. He could smell the soap on his skin where he’d showered after he and Xavier had finished fucking. A tennis shoe dropped on the floor, then a second._ _ _

___”You awake?” Justin asked as he undressed._ _ _

___”Yeah,” he replied softly._ _ _

___”Go out at all?”_ _ _

___”For a little while. To Woody’s.” Before Michael had called him out and he’d had to leave or face up to the truth and he was tired of doing that, all he wanted was to hide away, pretend that things hadn’t changed. But here was Justin, sitting on the other side of the bed, having been with someone else, and there was no way to deny it. The covers moved as Justin crawled under them. Brian’s muscles tensed. _Please, don’t touch me.__ _ _

___Justin lay quietly for a moment, then said, “ ‘Night.”_ _ _

___"‘Night." He heard him turn over in the bed, away from him and he relaxed._ _ _

___ _

____It's been two days since date night with Xavier and Brian still hasn't touched me. I mean, he touches me, when we're showering together or in bed, accidentally, or when he passes me something at dinner but we haven't made love since Friday. Whenever I try to start something, he makes an excuse, telling me he's tired or he's not in the mood and it's driving me crazy. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Maybe I was stupid or naive to ever believe that he'd be able to handle it but I did. After all, he used to trick all the time and I had to understand that I wasn't the only one he was fucking. I know he hasn't done it for a long time but it doesn't change the fact that he used to and I had to accept it. And I did. I had to watch Hotlanta go down on him. I had to watch him walk away with guy after guy after guy at Babylon. I had to understand when he wouldn't answer the door that he was with someone. And even after we started seeing each other seriously, I could never be sure whenever I came over that he hadn't been with someone else that day. How many times did he come out of the shower after having fucked some guy and I had to pretend not to notice?_ _ _ _

____I don't want to rub his face in my relationship with Xavier but I don't want to be punished for it either. Especially since I'm still with him. I still love him. I tell him that every day so that he doesn't feel neglected. I'm with him six days and nights out of the week and all Xavier gets is one lousy date night. One night out of six. And I didn't even stay over, I came home. To be with Brian. I don't know what else he wants from me._ _ _ _

___Justin put down his pen. Of course he did. Brian wanted him to stop seeing Xavier. Brian wanted things to go back to the way they were when it was just Brian and Justin and that was the one thing he couldn't give him._ _ _

___ _

___He’d just put away his sketch pad when Brian came through the door. Locked it. The look in Brian’s eyes was familiar even though it'd been a while since he'd seen it. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” the man confessed and Justin unbuttoned his pants and dropped them. Stepped out of one leg, not bothering with the other, just so that he could spread his feet apart. He leaned over the drafting table, gripping the edges while Brian freed his cock, encased it in latex, and rubbed against his ass. Feeling Brian’s fingers between his cheeks, he sighed, then caught his breath as one lubed finger eased inside him. “Yes,” he moaned. “Mmm. . .” Another finger joined the first and he was getting hard. Brian withdrew his fingers and dropped to his knees. Turned Justin around and took him between his lips. The teen muttered as Brian sucked him then grumbled as the warm mouth released him but, by then, neither of them really wanted to wait. It'd been too long already._ _ _

___The tip entered him, and then all of the head, all of the shaft. Before too long he was panting, on the verge of shouting. Christ, he hoped no one was still around. Especially Xavier. Giving a groan, he yelled something unintelligible and Brian picked up the pace, thrusting harder and harder. “I love you,” he uttered breathlessly. “I love you.”_ _ _

___ _

___Handing Justin the wet cloth, Xavier looked aside as his lover cleaned up. He felt vaguely dissatisfied and wished he didn’t feel that way. Wished he could keep it out of his face but he couldn’t. Justin laid the cloth on the floor next to the bed. Turned to him. “What is it?”_ _ _

___Not wanting to say it, he did. “I guess Brian is better.”_ _ _

___”At what?”_ _ _

___”Fucking,” Xavier replied. “You never. . .” He stopped, shook his head. “Never mind.”_ _ _

___”I never what?” Justin asked, shaking him a little._ _ _

___”You never cry out like you do with him.”_ _ _

___”How do you know what I do with him?”_ _ _

___”I heard you,” Xavier confessed. “That day in your studio.”_ _ _

___Shit. Even if Brian hadn't been a fantastic lover, it'd been five days since they'd last made love and he'd wanted Brian more than anything._ _ _

___”I heard you fucking. Heard you screaming.” Shrugged. “I guess at his age, you know a few tricks.”_ _ _

___Angry at the dig, Justin started to say, "He’s the- -" and then he stopped. That was too hurtful._ _ _

___”The best?”_ _ _

___”I’m not the only one who thinks so,” he said softly._ _ _

___”I wouldn’t know.”_ _ _

___”You could if you wanted.”_ _ _

___Xavier grunted. “He doesn’t want me. He only wants you.”_ _ _

___”I’m sorry. I’m sorry you can’t share that with us.”_ _ _

___”Are you really?”_ _ _

___Justin narrowed his eyes. “I won’t apologize for wanting to be with him, for wanting to make love to him. He’s my partner and I love him,” he explained carefully. “I’ll always love him. No matter what. And I’m never leaving him. Not unless he kicks me out. And even then, all I’d do is wait outside his door until he let me back in.”_ _ _

___”Why? Because he’s a great fuck?” sneered Xavier._ _ _

___”Because he loves me. More than anything in this world, more than his own life. Even now, when he’s totally pissed off with me, he’d do anything for me. Do you know what it’s like? Having someone love you like that?”_ _ _

___”No,” said Xavier. “I don’t.”_ _ _

___”Xavier- -“ But the boy had gotten up and gone into the bathroom. Shut the door. Justin drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He couldn't win._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___That point was driven home on Sunday. Although Mel was Jewish and Lindsay wasn't particularly religious, they'd agreed to celebrate Easter, not wanting Gus to miss out on the fun. Lindz organized an Easter egg hunt in the back yard for some of the neighborhood children and Justin had agreed to help. They'd planned it back before Spring Break, before everything had changed and he could tell that they weren't exactly pleased with him. Not that he was surprised. No one was particularly pleased with him. But he'd volunteered to paint Easter eggs and that's what he'd done, staying up way past two in the morning to get cover a dozen eggs with rainbows. Gus was the only person who seemed genuinely glad to see him, coming over to him wearing a baby blue bunny costume that set Brian to groaning the moment the toddler came into view._ _ _

___"Are you trying to give him a complex?" he asked Lindz._ _ _

___"I think he looks cute," she told him. "Deb made it for him."_ _ _

___"Jesus."_ _ _

___Mel passed by. "Is he here? I guess the resurrection wasn't a Christian fantasy after all."_ _ _

___Justin snickered and asked, "Where do you want me to put these?"_ _ _

___Barely looking at him, Lindsay said, "There's a basket over there." Then, as he walked by her, she added, "Those are beautiful."_ _ _

___"Thanks."_ _ _

___After that Lindsay seemed to warm up to him a little bit, enlisting his help with the remaining decorations and getting his opinion on good hiding places. Brian stayed out of the way, playing with Gus and sharing a caramel Cadbury egg with the toddler whenever the Munchers weren't looking._ _ _

___He'd thought Brian would want to scram as soon as the other rugrats appeared but he surprised him by saying he didn't care, so they stayed and watched Gus stumble around with the other kids trying to find the brightly colored eggs that were pretty much hidden in plain sight._ _ _

___By the end of the afternoon, Gus had found three eggs which he proudly carried to his daddy wanting to share them. Two were eggs Justin had painted. The teenager watched the way Brian took them from the basket and held them in his hands as if they'd been crafted by Fabrege._ _ _

___Later, while Brian was upstairs with Gus taking off "that fuckin' fashion felony," before the baby took a nap, Lindz wandered into the livingroom where he was hanging and took a breather. Except that he knew she wanted to talk to him. So, instead of waiting for her to make the opening move, he said, "I don't expect you believe me, but I don't love him any less."_ _ _

___"But you could love him better," she said, her words striking him hard. "I was there, Justin," she told him, "when he broke up with Cam. I saw him change because of it. And not for the better. He's come so far. I'd hate to think what he'd become if the same thing happened with you."_ _ _

___"It's not the same. I haven't left him. I'm not going to."_ _ _

___Leaning forward, she asked, "You could live in the same house and still be millions of miles apart."_ _ _

___Defensive, he replied, "I know what we're doing is different, but we've never given a shit about the status quo. We wouldn't be together if we cared what other people thought about us."_ _ _

___"What about what he thinks?"_ _ _

___"He agreed to try."_ _ _

___"To keep from losing you." Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Brian coming down the stairs. He paused, just out of Justin's sight. "If he asked you to, would you give up Xavier?"_ _ _

___"We've worked it out," he insisted._ _ _

___"So everything's fine then?"_ _ _

___"It's going to take time," he explained. "We just have to be patient." But in his heart he knew it was going to take more than time. Only, just what else it was going to take, he didn't know._ _ _

___Lindsay watched as Brian turned and silently walked back upstairs._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___Drew noticed how careful Brian and Xavier were not to come near one another, placing Justin between them but making sure that he was almost equidistant from the both of them. That wasn't good. Even without the strained look on Justin's face, their actions would have told him that things weren't working as smoothly as the teen would have hoped. Granted, it'd only been a couple of weeks but still, Justin looked exhausted. Worn out from the effort of placating two lovers. And failing._ _ _

___"So," Drew asked him, "how are things working out?"_ _ _

___"Okay," he replied, lying. They both knew it._ _ _

___"No problems finding time to be with Brian and Xavier?" Justin shook his head. "Xavier?" The teen looked up. "You're satisfied with your, what? One night a week?"_ _ _

___"Yeah."_ _ _

___"And, Brian, you're adjusting to the fact that once a week Justin's out fucking Xavier?"_ _ _

___Brian glared at him. "Fuck you."_ _ _

___"Well, at least one of you is being honest about something. What the hell is going on and why the fuck did you think you could come in here and snow job me?" He pointed to his degrees hanging on the wall. "See those? They say 'I'm not a fool, so don't play me.' Now, let's try this again, from the top, and see if this time around you could tell the truth." He looked at Justin. "Why don't you start? How are things working out?"_ _ _

___"They're not. Not really."_ _ _

___"What's wrong?"_ _ _

___"Brian and Xavier. Neither one of them wants to do this. I understand that. I do. I don't expect either one of them to be ecstatic about it but it's the best I can do. And it'd be nice if they treated me like a human being and not like one of their possessions."_ _ _

___"What do you mean?"_ _ _

___"It's like I'm a toy or something and they're having to share me. Or like I'm a prize in some kind of contest." He sighed. "I'm tired. I'm tired of the suspicion and the guilt and. . . I go to school and Xavier spends half the day mad with me because I'm going home to Brian. I get home and Brian spends the first half hour we're together trying to figure out if I've even brushed up against Xavier during the day. Xavier and I go out on Friday, I come home and Brian won't even look at me much less touch me. I can't enjoy having sex with either one without the other one feeling like I've somehow betrayed him and I'm sick of it."_ _ _

___Drew noticed the way Brian and Xavier cut their eyes at one another but had nothing but concern in their faces for Justin. So that hadn't changed no matter what. "What do you think we can do about it?"_ _ _

___"I don't know. I just wish they'd realize that I'm trying. That this isn't easy for me either. I'm tired all the time from trying to please the both of them and I just. . ." Justin paused and looked down at his hands. "I just wish someone would cut me some slack."_ _ _

___"This isn't just about Brian and Xavier, is it?"_ _ _

___Justin shook his head. "My mom won't talk to me. I mean, she talks to me but she doesn't understand why I'm doing this and she's disappointed in me. The guys treat me like shit because I'm hurting Brian. Deb and Lindsay and Mel and Vic try to be fair but they think I'm wrong too, even though they won't say it. Rennie told Xavier and me that we were wrong and she won't talk to either one of us. I keep waiting for Gus to spit on me too."_ _ _

___"You knew it would be difficult. The lifestyle you've chosen isn't the norm. You knew that."_ _ _

___"I thought. . . these were my friends, my family. I thought they would give me a chance to explain, that they would try to understand. I could have kept lying, I could have lied to Brian, lied to them, snuck around behind their backs to see Xavier and, I guess, that would have been better than being honest."_ _ _

___"No," Drew assured him, "it wouldn't have. You were right to be honest about your feelings. But, Justin, they're being honest too. Even though it hurts, you'll have to accept the fact that you may lose some of them because of this arrangement."_ _ _

___Justin had turned slightly towards Brian and the man wiped away a tear from the teen's face. On the other side, Xavier tensed._ _ _

___"How about you, Xavier? How are you holding up?"_ _ _

___Although he didn't want to admit it, he did. "I guess I'm jealous of Brian. Of the time he gets to spend with Justin. They live together, they have a life together. I feel like all Justin and I have is one day- - not even a whole day- - one night to try and cram a whole week into."_ _ _

___"But you see Justin at school."_ _ _

___"Sometimes. We're busy, you know? And he has work too. I might see him for twenty minutes in a day, sometimes less. It's hard."_ _ _

___"Would having another night with Justin make things better for you?" Drew asked hearing Brian's indrawn breath._ _ _

___"Yeah. But Brian won't agree to it."_ _ _

___"Brian?"_ _ _

___"No."_ _ _

___Xavier looked as if he wanted to kill the ad exec. "I told you."_ _ _

___"Justin, what do you think?"_ _ _

___"Don't ask me," Justin pleaded._ _ _

___"I am asking you," said Drew, not caring how awkward a position it put Justin in, the teenager had to make a decision, had to understand that he couldn't sit on the sidelines and watch Brian and Xavier duke it out. Either he did something to change things or they would continue to deteriorate. "Do you think you and Xavier should have one more night?"_ _ _

___He swallowed before answering, "No." Ignored the hurt look on Xavier's face. "I think what would help is if Xavier spent more time with us." Brian shot him a look. Xavier's brow furrowed._ _ _

___"As a true threesome?" asked Drew._ _ _

___"Yes."_ _ _

___The teen never ceased to amaze the therapist. It was exactly what he'd been thinking as well. Maybe they would make it. "I happen to think Justin is right. But it's up to you three to work it out. Brian?"_ _ _

___"Have him over to our house?"_ _ _

___"He's been there before, hasn't he?" asked Drew._ _ _

___"Yeah, as a guest. As one of Justin's friends. Not as his fuck buddy."_ _ _

___"He's not Justin's fuck buddy," Drew clarified. "He's- -"_ _ _

___"I know what he is," Brian said grimly._ _ _

___"He's a member of this relationship with rights and privileges just like you and Justin. Now, it's your home, you can choose not to have him there. That's within your prerogative. But, eventually, if this relationship is to have a chance of working, you're going to have to learn to get along. You heard Justin, you're wearing him out and it has to stop."_ _ _

___"Fine." Brian crossed his legs. "He can give up Xavier and stop with this foolishness. I'm not standing in his way."_ _ _

___Xavier stepped in. "That's not an option."_ _ _

___"Then shut the fuck up about things not being fair. If it were up to me, you wouldn't get one night, understand?"_ _ _

___"And what if it were the other way around? What if you were the one getting one night and I was the one living with Justin all the time?" Drew leaned forward, anxious to hear what Brian had to say._ _ _

___"Then we wouldn't be here. Because I wouldn't put up with that shit. I'm more of a man than that."_ _ _

___Before Xavier could lunge for Brian, Drew had stood and moved in his path. He placed a hand on Xavier's chest and pushed him back a little._ _ _

___"Stop it," Justin said softly. So softly that only Brian heard him._ _ _

___"Baby. . ."_ _ _

___"I want to go home."_ _ _

___By then Drew had settled Xavier down. "The session isn't over."_ _ _

___"I don't care," he said. "I just want to go home."_ _ _

___They'd gone straight to the apartment, Xavier taking a cab back to the Institute. Drew hadn't trusted the two of them to be civil to one another even on the short ride across town. Once Brian and Justin arrived at the loft, the teen went into the bedroom and stretched across the bed. Brian followed but Justin said, "I want to be alone."_ _ _

___"Justin- -"_ _ _

___"I mean it."_ _ _

___But Brian refused to be put aside. He stood in the doorway, holding on to the frame. "What do you want? You want me to lie to you? Tell you it's okay? Well, I can't. I'm trying to understand. I'm trying to support you, to give you what you say you need. But how much am I supposed to give, Justin? How much until there's nothing left for me? And then what? You're free to go to Xavier?" He released the frame. "If that's what you want, then go. Go to him and be with him and leave me the fuck alone."_ _ _

___"I don't want that."_ _ _

___"Well, I don't want to be with him. I can't do that, Justin. So don't ask me to," he added before turning away._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___Things had been strained between them for more than a week. They'd made love a couple of times and regretted it since it was so obvious that things weren't right between them. As part of the gang's ongoing attempt to make peace with Justin and his decision, they all met at Babylon and danced the way they used to, only it wasn't the way it used to be. Brian spent most of the evening by the bar, dancing once with Mikey and once with Justin before retiring again to his spot to glare at the world. Justin was aware of the older men's disapproval. Finally, as he danced with Emmett, he said, "Everyone hates me."_ _ _

___"No, baby, we don't hate you."_ _ _

___"You don't like me very much."_ _ _

___And Emmett smiled. "Now, that, honey, just might be true." They moved off the dance floor and found a relatively quiet spot._ _ _

___"You've always told me to do what my heart tells me is right," Justin said._ _ _

___"I know, and I meant it. But, Justin, you're hurting Brian. I've never seen him like this. I never thought anything could hurt him but you have. Because he loves you too much to protect himself against you. And you're taking advantage of that. The same way he used to hurt you. Remember? Remember how much it hurt? How helpless you felt?"_ _ _

___"I'm not doing it just to be a prick."_ _ _

___"And I'm sure he had his reasons too. Good ones. To him."_ _ _

___Justin peered at the crowd. "I'm trying to do what's best for all of us."_ _ _

___"And maybe you can't." Emmett squeezed his shoulder. "Maybe you need to figure out who's most important to you and take care of him."_ _ _

___Em's advice stayed with him as he and Brian lay in bed, not touching, not talking once again. Finally Brian got up, put on his robe, and padded to the livingroom, grabbing the bottle of Beam first._ _ _

___Justin slipped on his robe and went after him. Stood behind him watching Brian take a swig. "You think that's gonna help?"_ _ _

___"Couldn't hurt."_ _ _

___Going around to the other side, Justin asked, "Why won't you talk to me?"_ _ _

___"Because there's nothing to say, Justin. Nothing different anyway. You need me to say some things to you and I can't. And I need you to do the same for me and you can't. So what's the point in talking about unimportant shit? Wasting time?"_ _ _

___Justin squatted at his feet, holding onto his knees. Looked up at him, blue eyes shining. "I love you."_ _ _

___"I know that," Brian told him, trying to get up but Justin wouldn't let him._ _ _

___"Then act like it," Justin demanded. He stood and took the bottle away from him, set it on the table behind him. Climbed on Brian's lap. Kissed him despite Brian's discomfort. "I love you," he whispered and kissed him again. Untied his robe and let it fall from his shoulders. He took Brian's hand in his and laid his palm against his chest. "Touch me."_ _ _

___Brian pulled his hand away. "Justin- -"_ _ _

___"I want you." He kissed Brian hard and pressed against him, rubbing his cock against the man's belly. "Make love to me." Another kiss. "Please." He slipped his tongue inside Brian's mouth and felt Brian's lips tighten around it. Yes. But then Brian pushed him away, pushed him onto the couch and stood. Trembling. Justin, Brian's eyes fixed on him, spread his legs and ran his hand down his torso until his fingers closed around his cock. He stroked himself, eyes open, tongue peeking from between his lips. "Please."_ _ _

___Brian dropped his robe off, knelt next to the sofa, and lowered his head between Justin's thighs._ _ _

___He could never refuse Justin anything._ _ _

___Lying on his side, Justin's arm around him, Brian wondered if he'd be able to save himself when Justin came asking for his breath, his heartbeat, his blood._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___It'd been the shittiest of weeks. Even without the continuing situation with Justin and Xavier, it would have been a bad one. Except that, in the past, he could have counted on Justin being there to ease the kinks from his shoulders, to make him a steaming bowl of pasta, to make love to him until he forgot about it. But tonight was Friday, Justin and Xavier's date night, and the teen wouldn't be home until late, probably around two or three in the morning. Sliding open the door to the loft, Brian never felt more alone. But, if he remembered right, he had a couple bags of various pick-me-ups in his little wooden box._ _ _

___He may have felt alone when he walked into the loft but by the time he shut the door and reached for the light, he realized that he wasn't. There was someone else in there with him. Reaching again for the light, a hand took hold of his and stopped the motion. Justin. Naked before him. Hungry for him, he leaned over and kissed the teen. Felt Justin fumble at his waist, undoing his belt and the button on his trousers. But then who was pulling his jacket off?_ _ _

___He started to turn around, break off the kiss, but Justin wouldn't allow him. And after a moment, as the hands behind him opened his shirt and began stroking his nipples, he found that he didn't care. Soon he was as naked as the two teens, because it had to be Xavier behind him, kissing his back and shoulders as Justin continued to kiss his lips._ _ _

___He allowed them to escort him to the bedroom in the dark, the only light in the entire apartment the blue neon tubing over the bed. Allowed them to lie him down upon the comforter and stretch out next to him, one on either side. And then they began kissing him again, taking turns joining their mouths to his, breaking away sometimes to kiss one another, hands busy touching his chest, his belly, his cock. When, at last, they both moved down to his crotch, he was already stiffening. In the blue light, he could see them licking his shaft, kissing the tip of his dick, mouths joining around his cock, the head glistening between their lips, wet with their saliva. Two heads bobbed over his groin as the teenagers gobbled his meat, their moans joining his. Eyes closed, he felt his dick slide inside one of their mouths, his balls fill the cheeks of the other. Groaning, he pumped his hips, brushing the head of his cock against the back of someone's throat. In answer, the other one tugged on his sac. And then they switched positions, traded pleasures. His legs fell open even wider and his dick slipped free of the throat it'd been buried in._ _ _

___Another pair of lips closed around his balls and they both sucked him, one one on each side, tongues lapping the soft skin covering his nuts. Fingers stroked his shaft, played over the swollen head as they continued to suck his balls. And then both released him and turned once more to the shaft, tracing the heavily veined flesh with their tongues, their lips. He didn't know how much more of it he could stand and they must have known it. One encircled his shaft with his hand and jacked him while the other brushed his fingers over his hole and stroked the center of his sac with his thumb. Brian squeezed his eyes shut as his balls drew up to his shaft and he shouted a warning a second before coming._ _ _

___Like cats, the two boys licked him clean of cum, tongues flickering over the dripping head as he whimpered and shook._ _ _

___Lying on his back, Justin opened his mouth and let Xavier's cock slide over his tongue, felt Xavier swallow his dick in return. Gently the teen pumped his hips, not wanting to gag Justin but loving the feel of his lover's lips moving up and down his shaft as he sucked Justin in turn._ _ _

___Brian watched the two of them giving each other head and felt his cock stiffen in response. Getting down on his belly, he pushed Justin's legs up and open exposing his wrinkled hole. Xavier moved so that he was able to hold Justin in place, which freed Brian's hands to stretch open his hole and keep it open while his tongue probed him._ _ _

___Justin moaned around Xavier's cock as Brian rimmed him. His cock throbbed each time the man's tongue dipped inside him. Of course, Xavier's tongue had a lot to do with his excited state as well, as it swirled around the head of his cock, the shaft, his balls._ _ _

___For his part, Xavier watched in amazement as Brian lost himself in Justin's ass. The man seemed to be in a daze as he ate out the teen's hole, eyes closed, uttering little sounds as he worked his tongue in deeper. And Justin, Justin responded to it by tightening his throat around Xavier's cock which was sending Xavier closer and closer to the edge. But Xavier wanted to be inside Justin's ass. Letting go of the teen's cock, Xavier pulled free too. Brian, sensing movement, raised up. Drew Xavier to him and rubbed his cock against the teen's. "I want to fuck you," Brian told him before kissing him, hands cupping Xavier's plump ass. "I want to fuck you while you're fucking him," he whispered and Xavier's dick twitched. "Fuck your tight, little hole." He dipped down and kissed Xavier's throat. "Tight, little virgin hole."_ _ _

___Xavier shuddered and felt Justin's fingers slip between his cheeks. He'd never let another man fuck him before and he wondered how Brian knew. The tip of Justin's finger played around his hole and he moaned inside Brian's mouth before pulling away and turning to lie on top of Justin. They kissed, groins grinding against one another, and then Justin reached up and spread Xavier's cheeks._ _ _

___Taking his cue from his partner, Brian dropped down and thrust his face between Xavier's opened thighs. The teen's asshole was quivering and moist with sweat, the way he liked. A little fear and helplessness turned him on. Xavier's ring was darker than Justin's but no less inviting. Starting slowly, he encircled the hole with his tongue, not attempting to gain entrance, just to let Xavier know he was there. He heard the boy sigh and smiled. Licked around the edges again._ _ _

___Listening to the sounds Xavier was making, Justin knew how he felt. No one rimmed like Brian. He'd known Xavier wouldn't be able to resist once Brian's tongue went to work on him._ _ _

___Having made a few circuits, Brian was ready to move in a little closer. Still not attempting to enter Xavier, he ran his tongue over the folds of flesh and heard the teenager cry out. Wouldn't be long before Xavier was begging him to fuck him the way Justin did. Although not all guys were into getting fucked, he had a feeling Xavier wasn't one of them. Especially after he finished eating him out._ _ _

___Xavier felt dizzy. Justin's cock against his own, Justin's tongue in his mouth, and Brian's tongue sliding over his asshole. . . God, he could barely breathe. And then Brian's tongue pushed inside his ass and he shouted. Nothing had ever felt so good. Fuck! No wonder Justin begged him to lick his ass whenever they fucked if this was what he was used to. Arching his back, he felt Justin's hands on his ass holding him open as Brian tongued him. He could feel the tip reaching towards the top of his ass and he thought he would scream. And then it withdrew, only to return in a moment, more insistent, demanding that he whimper and moan. And he did. He was so fucking hard and ready to plow Justin's ass and ready to be fucked he whispered, "Fuck me."_ _ _

___Brian licked down between his legs, around his balls. "Say it again."_ _ _

___"Fuck me." Brian's tongue washed over his hole again. "Fuck me."_ _ _

___Justin reached for the condoms and lube, slipped one over Xavier's cock and handed another to Brian. He raised his legs to Xavier's shoulders and moaned as Xavier squeezed lube in his hole. "Do it," he whispered and cried out as Xavier's cock entered him._ _ _

___Rising and falling, Xavier's tight, little ass beckoned to Brian. Lubing his fingers, he positioned himself behind Xavier and eased a fingertip inside him. He'd have to go slow or else Xavier wouldn't be ready for him. The teen was tight, as tight as he'd expect a virgin to be and he took his time, steadily pushing his finger forward until it was buried in Xavier's hole. Instead of actively fingering him, he allowed Xavier's motions as he fucked Justin to do the work. After a minute or so, Xavier's ass felt looser. But it was one thing to take a man's finger, another to take his cock. Pulling his finger free, Brian took hold of his cock and rubbed the head over Xavier's hole. The teen paused in his fucking and sighed. "I'm coming in," Brian told him and then he pushed._ _ _

___He never imagined it would hurt like that, had always thought it would be easier to take than this but he found himself yelping as Brian first entered him and then holding his breath as Brian filled him. It was only as Brian's balls pressed against his ass that he allowed himself to take a tiny breath, not wanting to move, afraid that if he did the pain would flare up. And it did. Beneath him, Justin whispered to him and stroked his buttocks until the worst of the pain seemed over. And then Brian began to withdraw and tears sprang to the corners of his eyes. He wailed, shivering, unable to move, unable to dislodge him, only able to lie there and take it as Brian fucked him. And then something miraculous occured. The pain began to fade. And as the pain receded, pleasure spread from a spot inside his hole to encompass his entire body. His cock, which had begun to soften a little under the assault, grew hard again and he began to move between Justin's thighs once more. "That's it," Justin breathed and he agreed. That was it. Brian had found his spot and it was swelling up. . ._ _ _

___Hands on Xavier's shoulder and waist, Brian thrust hard against the boy's buttocks, his balls slapping against his ass, and listened as both Xavier and Justin moaned, the sounds stroking his balls, squeezing them, churning the cum up in them._ _ _

___Cock buried in Justin's ass, his own ass stuffed with Brian's dick, Xavier shivered and began panting. "Oh! Oh! Oh, God. . . Oh God." He pumped against Justin while his cock expanded and he dropped his load._ _ _

___Xavier's ass clamped down on his cock wrenching the cum from Brian's balls. Stiffening against the boy's buttocks, Brian gave over to his orgasm._ _ _

___Legs beginning to ache from being bent, Justin reached for his cock. Gave it a few tugs. His balls twisted and he shouted, spitting cum over his belly. "Mmmm," he moaned and smiled. Ran his fingers through his spunk and offered them to Xavier. The teen opened his mouth and licked Justin's fingers clean. Then he scooped up another three fingers full and fed Brian the rest._ _ _

___Licking his lips, Brian grinned. "Fuck, baby." That was his little boy._ _ _

___ _

___They spent most of the weekend in bed, each of them sharing himself with the other two in whatever fashion was deemed most desirable at that moment. At some point, Xavier found himself squatting over Brian, his back to the man's chest, supporting himself on his hands and the balls of his feet, working his hole up and down the length of Brian's cock while Justin knelt between their legs and sucked him off._ _ _

___The air in the apartment was heavy with the smell of sex, it settled over everything like a fine layer of pollen._ _ _

___In a shower big enough to hold four, the three of them frolicked, Brian and Xavier on their knees trying to catch a slippery cock in their mouths, Justin giggling as two tongues lapped him, licked him._ _ _

___Allowing the teenagers to tie him to the chaise lounge, Brian was helpless to resist them. Cockring tight around the base of his dick, he moaned while they took turns riding his erection, sweet holes clenching him in loving embraces. Blindfolded, he opened his mouth as they jerked off on his face and chest, cum falling across his lips._ _ _

___Justin introduced Xavier to a couple of Brian's toys, taking great pleasure in the way the teen trembled and shook, his ass stuffed with a dildo that vibrated from tip to tip._ _ _

___By nightfall on Sunday, they were completely drained, too exhausted to move._ _ _

___His arm around Brian's waist and Xavier lying comfortably against his back, Justin smiled in his sleep and even Brian entertained a glimmer of hope that maybe they might be able to make this work after all._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___So what the fuck happened? Why was he sitting at Mel and Lindsay's place, Gus on his lap, wondering where Justin was and why he wasn't there when he'd said that he would be, when it was a Saturday, one of their nights? Letting the baby distract him with an unintelligible story about Beh and something they'd done that day, Brian fought to keep calm and cool._ _ _

___He made it through dinner and drove back to the loft, a dark cloud over the roof of the Jeep. If Justin was there with Xavier there was going to be trouble, that much he could guarantee._ _ _

___Still, he hesitated before he threw open the door. There was no one there. Pulling a barstool from the counter, he sat and waited._ _ _

___The moment he stepped through the door and saw Brian sitting at the counter, he remembered. Fuck. He was supposed to go to the Munchers' for dinner with Brian. They were going to talk about whether or not they should move Gus from his present pre-school to this exclusive one that they'd heard about from some of the other parents in Mel and Lindsay's neighborhood. He'd promised Brian that he'd be there. One look at the ad exec and he could tell that this was going to be a bad one and he wished he'd told Xavier to go home instead of letting him come up to spend the night._ _ _

___Brian counted to ten and thought happy thoughts and did all of the shit Drew had told him to do whenever he felt a major hissy fit coming on and none of it did a goddamn bit of good. He was ready to fuckin' choke them both. Ignoring Xavier for the moment, he asked Justin, "Where the fuck were you?"_ _ _

___"Brian- -"_ _ _

___"I asked you where you were!" he shouted and Justin stumbled back._ _ _

___"Hey," Xavier began, "step off."_ _ _

___"Shut the fuck up," Brian told him. Then asked Justin again, "Where were you?"_ _ _

___"I said, step off," Xavier repeated._ _ _

___"And you've got two seconds to get the fuck out of my house before I kick your ass," warned Brian._ _ _

___Justin got between the two of them and pushed Xavier away. "Go."_ _ _

___"Justin- -"_ _ _

___"Just go. I'll be all right."_ _ _

___Looking back at Justin, at how small he seemed compared to Brian, Xavier made himself walk to the door and open it up. He hesitated._ _ _

___"Go," Justin told him again._ _ _

___He left. Stood outside the door listening until someone came and locked the door. And that was it. He started down the stairs._ _ _

___He'd never struck Justin in all of the time they'd been together outside of playing rough during sex but he was tempted to slap the shit out of him now. "What were you doing?"_ _ _

___"I was with Xavier."_ _ _

___"I know who the hell you were with, I want to know what was so goddamn important that you had to stand me up."_ _ _

___Knowing how lame it sounded, Justin replied, "I went to help Xavier pick out a birthday present for his Nana Rose."_ _ _

___Brian jerked away from the teenager to keep from hitting him. He stood with his back to Justin, breathing hard. And then his shoulders slumped._ _ _

___Worried, Justin said, "Brian?"_ _ _

___He snickered. "I must be the world's biggest fuckin' fool." Laughed again. "Go." He turned around and waved towards the door. "You want to be with him? You go be with him." When Justin didn't move, he said in a louder, sterner voice, "Get the hell out!"_ _ _

___"Brian- -"_ _ _

___"If he's so goddamn important to you, more important than my fucking son, then you go be with him. Right now. Get out."_ _ _

___Justin's lip trembled. "Please- -"_ _ _

___Brian neared him and grabbed his arm. Tugged him towards the door. Flung it open and pushed him out. Slammed the door in his face and locked it. Slumped against it and closed his eyes. "No," he said as the first of the tears began. "No, goddamn it. No." Mind made up, he went to bed._ _ _

___Justin sat down by the door and laid his head on his arms which were folded on top of his raised knees. Tears rolled down his cheeks._ _ _

___ _

___As he'd expected, in the morning when he went to get the paper, Justin lay in the corner asleep. Picking up the newspaper, Brian slammed the door close again. Fuck him._ _ _

___Jerking awake, Justin rubbed his eyes and checked his watch. Climbed to his feet and opened the door. Brian hadn't locked it again. Not that he couldn't have gotten in, having a key, it was just that he hadn't dared, not while Brian was so angry. At least the unlocked door meant he was willing to have Justin in the same space. He glanced at Brian sitting at the dining table and reading the paper. The man pretended not to hear him come in but he knew Brian was aware of his every move. Going into the bedroom, Justin began to strip when he heard Brian speak._ _ _

___"The next time you can pack your shit and get the hell out."_ _ _

___Going to the doorway closest to Brian, Justin promised, "It won't happen again."_ _ _

___As if he hadn't heard him, Brian continued to page through the paper._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___Justin’s cell vibrated in his pocket. Discreetly, he hoped, he checked to see who it was: Brian. Knowing that the man wouldn’t have called him on the day of one of his and Xavier’s date nights unless it was important, he fidgeted the fourteen minutes left until class was over, then dashed to his studio and called the ad exec back. “Hey, what’s up?”_ _ _

___”I need a favor.”_ _ _

___”What?”_ _ _

___”Kenneth Harris is in town and wants to go out.”_ _ _

___”So?” Justin was confused. It wasn’t as if he and Brian had had plans._ _ _

___”He wants to take us out.”_ _ _

___”Us who?”_ _ _

___”You and me.”_ _ _

___”Tonight?”_ _ _

___”Yeah.”_ _ _

___”But, Brian, it’s- -“_ _ _

___”I know. And I wouldn’t ask except that his account is the biggest one the firm handles and he just increased our budget. Baby,” said Brian, pausing, “I need you to do this for me.”_ _ _

___Justin pondered his decision, actually there was no other choice: he’d go with Brian. He only wondered how he was going to break the news to Xavier._ _ _

___”I don’t care,” Xavier replied in response to the change in plans. “It’s not like I didn’t know anyway. That he comes first.”_ _ _

___”Xavier- -“_ _ _

___”That he’s more important to you than I am.” When Justin didn’t refute his claim, Xavier signed. “I don’t know why I even bother.” He left the studio._ _ _

___ _

___Brian picked Justin up from the Institute and drove home where they quickly showered and dressed for dinner. They were to meet Harris at this rather exclusive restaurant hidden away in the midst of downtown Pittsburgh._ _ _

___”Kind of like Sans Souci,” Justin commented. “I thought the driver had gotten the address wrong when he pulled up in front of it.”_ _ _

___”That was a good night.”_ _ _

___”The best,” Justin agreed._ _ _

___And Brian added, “We don’t have a lot of those anymore.”_ _ _

___Justin said nothing in return. It was true. Things were still tense between them despite the limited progress they’d made. The three of them had shared a number of nights together since the first time but that was only part of it. They had so many other issues to work out. Tonight being the prime example. Xavier had been hurt and had ever right to be but why couldn’t he understand how important this was for Brian and not be? And why hadn’t Brian explained to Kenneth the reality of their situation? Neither one of them was willing to give an inch when you got right down to it._ _ _

___Kenneth arrived alone a few minutes after they did and the maitre d’ showed them to a table. Over cocktails and appetizers Harris played the gracious host regaling them with tales about his childhood in rural Alabama._ _ _

___”You ought to talk to Emmett,” Justin told him. “He grew up in Hazelhurst, Mississippi.”_ _ _

___”No way! I know where that is,” said Kenneth. “Good Lord, if there was anyplace worse to grow up in than Alabama, it was Mississippi.”_ _ _

___”It’s funny, cause Emmett talks about how horrible it was but, sometimes, it sounds like he had fun too,” said Justin._ _ _

___”It wasn’t all bad,” explained Kenneth. “Some of the best times of my life happened when I was a kid. Despite everything.”_ _ _

___Not really wanting to go down memory lane in regards to his own fucked-up childhood, Brian excused himself to visit the restroom and to go outside for a smoke. His grand plans to quit had been sabotaged by recent events and he figured he’d never give them up so why fight it anymore? He was down to a couple a day and decided that was the best he could do._ _ _

___Watching Brian leave with undisguised lust in his eyes, Kenneth told Justin, “You’re very lucky.”_ _ _

___”I know.”_ _ _

___”Do you? Did he tell you about his trip to Birmingham?”_ _ _

___”He said you had a great office.”_ _ _

___Kenneth laughed. “Yeah, well. . . Did he tell you how I tried to seduce him?” Justin shook his head. “Oh, yeah. Invited him back to my house for dinner, gave him the fifty cent tour of the mansion, fed him a fucking fantastic meal, and then proceeded to try and convince him to stay. And not just the night. Although that’s what he thought I was doing. But, between you and me, I’m rather smitten with him. Smart as the devil, sexy as hell, and I won’t lie to you, if he weren’t with you, I’d do everything I could to get him.” Harris smiled. “He’s a good man. Those are hard to come by these days.”_ _ _

___”He’s the best.”_ _ _

___”You ever get the urge to throw him away, I want you to remember that I’m waiting just around the corner and I’m not above offering him the sun and the moon if that’s what it takes.”_ _ _

___”It’s not,” said Justin._ _ _

___Kenneth leaned forward. “Guess you’re not going to tell me, huh?”_ _ _

___”Trade secret,” smiled Justin._ _ _

___”Smart boy. Never help the competition, I always say. Bad for business.”_ _ _

___When Brian returned they had dessert and coffee and over a second cup, Brian said to Kenneth, “I was thinking about your headquarters.”_ _ _

___Amused, Kenneth asked, “What about it?”_ _ _

___”The atrium. You know Justin attends to the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts.”_ _ _

___”And you want me to buy some of his work?”_ _ _

___”No,” Brian replied. “Wouldn’t fit in with your corporate image. But his friend, Xavier, I think his stuff would be perfect for you. Maybe Rennie’s too.”_ _ _

___”Another friend?”_ _ _

___”Yeah.”_ _ _

___Justin looked at Brian in disbelief._ _ _

___Unaware of the context, Kenneth replied, “How about you send me their portfolios? I’ll take a look, see what I think?”_ _ _

___”Done,” Brian replied._ _ _

___As they parted outside, Justin saw the way Kenneth’s eye lingered on Brian. Maybe Brian would be better off with someone like Harris, someone who’d love him, and cherish him, treat him the way he deserved. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize the limousine had pulled away until Brian kissed him on the forehead and said, “Come on. Let’s go home.”_ _ _

___Justin waited until they were undressing for bed to ask, “Why did you do that for Xavier?”_ _ _

___Taking a deep breath, Brian answered, “Because he’s good. Even I can see that.”_ _ _

___”Despite everything that’s happened?”_ _ _

___And Brian paused. “I’m not a saint. I’d be lying if I said I liked the way things are. I don’t. But I love you. And we’ll make it. We have to. Cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”_ _ _

___”Harris would take you in a second.”_ _ _

___Brian smiled. “But I don’t want him. I have what I want.” He kissed Justin gently, then turned back the covers._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___But the teen’s words stayed with him all the next day while Justin was off with Xavier to make up for their cancelled date night. Harris would take him in a New York minute, so would Trevor, and while there wasn’t any guarantees that things would work out any better with them than they had with Justin, at least it’d be a chance to start over. Only, the thought of leaving Justin made him ache inside. But was it any worse of an ache than how he felt when Justin left to go and meet Xavier? When Justin returned from being with Xavier? God, he wished he could get over it but he couldn’t. It was never going to be all right, he was never going to be able to deal with Justin and Xavier and all he was doing was lying to himself and to Justin and what the fuck good was that? Still, he didn’t know what else to do._ _ _

___He found himself squatting in front of the television and putting in the tape of him and Cam in New York without having thought about doing so. Sitting in one of the armchairs, he watched himself walk down Christopher Street while Cam filmed him. “There’s Brian turning heads on Christopher Street,” Cam said off-screen. As Brian walked out of earshot, Cam asked of his invisible audience, “Isn’t he beautiful?” Brian turned and waved, bumping into some guy who, far from being upset, offered Brian something. Brian shook his head and pointed to Cam. The guy shrugged and walked away._ _ _

___He’d offered to buy him a drink. At his place, Brian remembered. And he’d said, ”No, thanks. I’m with him.” It had seemed so simple, five little words, all monosyllabic, ”No, thanks. I’m with him.” But, to be fair, that guy had been a stranger, someone he’d seen once and would never see again except on tape, and Xavier was someone Justin had to see almost everyday. How easily would he have said no if that guy had worked in his office? If he’d been someone he’d actually felt anything for? _Imagine,_ he told himself, _if you had to see Trevor every day. Or Kenneth. How easy would it be for you to turn them down?_ You couldn’t even turn Trevor down. He hadn’t shared that with Justin. The time had never been right and, anyway, he never intended to do it again, wouldn’t have done it at all if Justin had been where he belonged instead of carrying on with Xavier._ _ _

___Shutting off the tape, Brian closed his eyes and remained in the chair where he was, too tired to move._ _ _

___He had nowhere to go, nothing to do. But he didn’t want to be home, not alone. Getting up, he put on his shoes and found his keys._ _ _

___As he had with the videotape, he found himself at Deb’s house without having planned it. Hoped Mikey and Jeff weren’t there. Hoped Vic was out. As he pushed through the front door, he saw her seated at her sewing machine studying a pattern. She turned and took off her reading glasses. “Hey, kiddo. Where’s Sunshine?”_ _ _

___”With Xavier.”_ _ _

___”Well,” she began, “that would explain why you’re wasting your Saturday night with me.” Putting down her pattern, she got up. “You eat yet?”_ _ _

___”No.”_ _ _

___”Hungry?” He shrugged, Brian-speak for ‘Maybe. What you got?’ “There’s lasagna in the oven.”_ _ _

___He’d become a pretty good helper, Deb noticed. Setting the table and pouring the wine while she served. Justin’s doing. So why weren’t they having dinner at their place? Why was Justin out with Xavier and Brian over here pretending he didn’t care? And doing a piss poor job of it too._ _ _

___She hadn’t asked him anything else while they were eating and he was grateful because he needed all the time he could get to pull himself together. And she knew it. He could never put anything over on her. Although he’d tried. From day one he’d pitted his wiles against hers and not once had he ever gotten the best of her. There’d been a number of draws over the years but no outright victories on his part. She’d been onto him, same as Lindsay, same as Justin._ _ _

___”So whatcha gonna do?”_ _ _

___He shook his head. “I don’t know.”_ _ _

___”Shitty answer.”_ _ _

___”Best I’ve got.”_ _ _

___”What do you want?”_ _ _

___”What I can’t have.”_ _ _

___”You? Brian fuckin’ Kinney? You mean there’s something even you can’t get? I don’t believe it.” She finished her wine. “And, more importantly, it’s not true.”_ _ _

___”Yeah, it is.”_ _ _

___”Justin loves you.”_ _ _

___”Just not enough.”_ _ _

___”That’s not true.”_ _ _

___”Then why is he doing this to me?”_ _ _

___”Because you’re letting him.”_ _ _

___”What am I supposed to do? Force him to give up Xavier? And then what? Wait for him to start sneaking around behind my back to see him? I can’t stop him from doing what he wants, Deb. And I wouldn’t even try. He shouldn’t stop seeing him. Not if that’s what he wants.”_ _ _

___”But you’re the one getting hurt, Brian.”_ _ _

___”Because I’m letting him. You’re right about that.”_ _ _

___Frustrated, she asked, “So we’re back to my first question: what are you going to do?”_ _ _

___Instead of answering her question, he got up and began clearing the table._ _ _

___ _

___He hadn’t heard most of what Xavier had said all evening. Not because he wasn’t interested, he just had his mind on other things. Other people. One person. Brian. And Xavier had to know._ _ _

___But he wasn’t saying anything since Justin had told him how Brian had gone to bat for him, suggesting that Kenneth Harris buy some of his artwork. Besides, he wasn’t a fool. Anything negative he said about Brian would translate into negative cool points for him. Better to let Justin drift every now and then than to complain about the neglect._ _ _

___By the time they’d gotten back to Xavier’s room, Justin was about half a word away from bawling and not doing a good job of hiding it. Not sure what he should do, Xavier tried to distract him with making love but it soon became quite obvious that Justin wasn’t interested. Letting Xavier kiss him for a couple minutes while halfheartedly returning the gesture, Justin finally pushed his lover away and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands._ _ _

___”What?”_ _ _

___”Nothing.”_ _ _

___”Bullshit.” Justin flinched and Xavier was instantly ashamed. Sliding closer, he embraced him from behind, rested his chin on the teen’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”_ _ _

___How could he say that he missed Brian? Instead, he smiled crookedly. “I guess I’m just not in the mood.”_ _ _

___Xavier kissed his neck, then drew him back onto the bed and held him. “It’s okay, J.” And that did it, the tears started to trickle down his cheeks._ _ _

___Softly, Xavier whispered, “It’s okay.”_ _ _

___ _

___ _

___As Justin walked in, Brian looked up from the crossword and said, “Lindsay’s bringing Gus over around one to spend the afternoon.”_ _ _

___”Cool.” He paused on the way to the shower and kissed Brian._ _ _

___Out of force of habit, Brian inhaled his scent, thinking he’d smell the familiar tell-tale odor of soap, and he didn’t. He wondered what that meant. Probably that they’d fucked themselves silly yesterday and hadn’t been able to summon the energy to do so this morning. No sense in reading more into it than was there._ _ _

___Having showered and dressed, Justin came out and asked, “Want some waffles?” knowing Brian hadn’t had anything for breakfast._ _ _

___”Whatever,” he replied which Justin correctly interpreted as Brianese for, ‘Yes, thank you.’_ _ _

___Giving him another kiss as he passed again, Justin grinned._ _ _

___They ate waffles and bacon while trading parts of the paper, Justin going straight for the Arts and Entertainment section, Brian dividing his attention between the Business and the Style pages._ _ _

___In an hour there came a knock on the door, just as Brian was loading up the dishwasher. “I’ll get it,” Justin said and he pulled open the heavy metal door to find Lindsay on the other side, with Gus holding her hand. “What’s that smell?” Justin asked._ _ _

___”Gus,” she replied. “I gotta change him.”_ _ _

___”I’ll do it,” he volunteered and picked the baby up, holding him at arm’s length. “Come on, Gus.”_ _ _

___Brian came out of the kitchen waving his hand in front of his face. “What did you feed him for breakfast?”_ _ _

___”Nevermind.” Lindz put down Gus’ things by the counter. Waited until Justin and the baby were in the bathroom to ask, “So how are you?”_ _ _

___”Thinking.”_ _ _

___”About?”_ _ _

___”Things.” And he had been, since his talk with Deb the night before. Thinking hard about his life and what he wanted out of it._ _ _

___She could see it in his eyes. “Brian. . . ?”_ _ _

___He shook his head. “Not yet. But- -"_ _ _

___”Dada!”_ _ _

___They looked to see Gus come running out of the bathroom with his arms extended. No pants. Brian stooped and picked him up._ _ _

___”Dada!”_ _ _

___”Yeah!”_ _ _

___Gus kissed him and he kissed him back. “Dada, Pooh.”_ _ _

___”What about Pooh?” Justin had come out and stood near them holding the toddler's trousers._ _ _

___”Pooh, Dada,” Gus said again, frowning as if they were being deliberately obtuse._ _ _

___”What?” Gus kissed him again and Brian finally understood. Laughing, he leaned over and kissed Justin. Gus giggled and Brian kissed Justin again which set the baby off once more. Brian told him, “You’ve got a future as a either a mediator or a pimp.”_ _ _

___With Lindsay gone, the three men settled down for an afternoon of cartoon violence. Gus was mesmerized, laughing as Wile E. Coyote chased the Roadrunner and Sylvester tried to catch Tweety Bird. Brian, of course, found himself rooting for the coyote and cat. He hated that damn Roadrunner and Tweety Bird was a waste of feathers in his opinion. Which he kept to himself. Let Gus make up his own mind. Although it seemed that Gus was far more taken with Bugs and Daffy than anyone else, dancing along with Bugs as the bunny did a soft-shoe routine._ _ _

___”Hey,” said Justin, “maybe Gus is going to be a dancer. Like in Billy Elliot.” He and Brian had watched that on video one Saturday night, both of them drooling over the dancer that had played the grown-up Elliot. After seeing him in a brief snippet of the all-male Swan Lake in the film, they’d gone out and bought the Matthew Bourne ballet._ _ _

___”I fucked a ballet dancer once,” Brian told him. “Had the worse toes ever. But an ass like you wouldn’t believe.” Raised an eyebrow, knowing how proud Justin was of his ass and rightly so. It was perfect._ _ _

___”I bet it- -“ The phone rang interrupting his comment. Putting it on hold, Justin went to answer. “Hello.”_ _ _

___Brian waited._ _ _

___”Yeah.” Justin turned slightly away from him._ _ _

___Xavier._ _ _

___”I know. I haven’t forgotten. No.” He lowered his voice, “Me too. Later.” Hung up the phone._ _ _

___Luckily, at that moment, Gus chose to make a run for the television set, distracting Brian. By the time Justin had returned, he’d decided not to care._ _ _

___”I need to go to the studio this evening. Work on a project.”_ _ _

___”Okay.”_ _ _

___”You mind?”_ _ _

___”School comes first.”_ _ _

___”I can stay for dinner.”_ _ _

___”Fine.” Gus tugged on his arm and he lifted him up so that the baby could hug him._ _ _

___At the last moment, he turned and looked back at Brian, sitting on the bed flipping through a magazine, Gus asleep next to him._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___Sitting at the table balancing his checkbook, Justin went, "Fuck!"_ _ _

___Brian looked up over the back of the sofa. "What?"_ _ _

___"It's your birthday this weekend."_ _ _

___He laid back down and went back to his book. "So?"_ _ _

___Trying to ignore the tone, Justin asked, "You want a party?"_ _ _

___"No, I do not want a party."_ _ _

___"But I had a party."_ _ _

___"So?"_ _ _

___"You should have one too."_ _ _

___"I'm not nineteen."_ _ _

___"No shit," Justin said carelessly. The quiet was such that he could hear Brian turning the page of the book. Shit. "I didn't mean anything."_ _ _

___"Yeah, you did. You meant that I'm not a kid anymore." Brian raised up. "Well, guess what? I can fucking count too and I know exactly how old I am."_ _ _

___"Brian- -"_ _ _

___"And I don't need you or anybody else to remind me of it."_ _ _

___"I'm sorry."_ _ _

___"You mean you give a shit about someone other than yourself?" Brian asked before ducking back behind the sofa._ _ _

___"What does that mean?"_ _ _

___"You got a fifteen hundred on your SATs, you figure it out."_ _ _

___"I'm a little slow," Justin said, standing and walking over to the couch where Brian lay, "so why don't you explain it to me?"_ _ _

___Brian sat up. "It means I thought this was your world and we only got to live in it."_ _ _

___"Fuck you," he said, turning away._ _ _

___"Not if it's Friday."_ _ _

___Justin stopped. "That's what this is about: Xavier. Why does everything have to be about him?"_ _ _

___"You tell me. I wasn't the one who let him into our lives." Brian got up from the couch and went into the bedroom, returned with his shoes on and his jacket._ _ _

___"Where are you going?"_ _ _

___"Out."_ _ _

___"You're just gonna run away? I want to talk about this."_ _ _

___Brian faced him. "Talk about what, Justin? I'm talked out. I'm fucking tired of talking. The more we talk, the less I end up with." He started out again, then stopped. "First it was a night, now he's sleeping in our bed, what's next? How about this? How about you throw him a birthday party? We're both the same in your eyes anyway, so what difference does it make whose birthday it really is? You can pretend it's me. Gus can call him Dada, Lindsay can hit him up for sperm and money; you can dress him in my clothes, cook for him, fuck him, do whatever you want. You do anyway."_ _ _

___Justin watched him throw open the door and leave, slamming it behind him._ _ _

___ _

___The first thing that crossed his mind when he awoke was _Fuck, I'm thirty-one and then I'm alone._ Justin had disappeared Friday night as usual to meet with Xavier and he'd pretended that it was no different from any other Friday night, that he didn't care, that the idea of lying awake in bed until midnight was no big deal. In the end he'd gone to Babylon with the guys and danced until two in the morning, fending off a trio of persistent hotties who wanted to take him back to their place and do him. Totally wasted, Mikey had to drive him home with Jeff following in his car. Waving Mikey away as soon as he got upstairs, he went inside to find the loft empty and dropped off his clothes and crawled into bed. But he hadn't thought about it being his birthday and the guys hadn't mentioned it. He'd threatened to kill them if any of them planned anything so he was reasonably sure there wouldn't be any surprise party this year. And, of course, he'd blasted Justin too so he didn't even expect the teen to show up today, despite it being their day. Why the fuck should he? Only, he'd kinda hoped that maybe Justin. . . Too late._ _ _

___He sat up and something fell from the covers onto the floor. Reaching over the side, he felt around for it and picked it up. A card with his name on the outside. Opening it, he saw on the top half: _I know you are reading this poem/ in a room where too much has happened for you to bear/ where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed/ and the open valise speaks of flight/ but you cannot leave yet.**** And on the bottom half of the card: Love lover beloved loved one/ lovely lovelier loveliest lovable love/ love loveless lovelorn lovelorn lovelock lacklove/ unloved misled dissolved underloved subloved*****_ Brian frowned. Justin was here? "Justin?" No answer. He threw back the covers and padded to the bathroom, needing to piss anyway._ _ _

___Getting straight to business, it was only as he was flushing the toilet that he saw another card. Opened it. Read: _I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light/ in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out,/ count themselves out, at too early an age._ Then: _lovingkindness loving care tender love dearlove/ sweet love kindle heart love soullove/ lovelily lovingly livelily lovably/ lovelock love touch love speech lovetalk__ _ _

___ _

___With a mystery to solve, he went in search of the teen, stopping to pick up a card from the dining room table. _I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn/ between bitterness and hope/ turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse._ And: _close love tight love nightlife dawnlove/ morning love fresh love love calls lovecries/ love love love love love love love/ remove over love survive superlove/ everyloving heavenlove soullove heartlove truelove__ _ _

___Taking the three cards with him, he looked on the kitchen counter and saw nothing, then over towards the living room and there it was. _I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else/ left to read/ there where you have landed, stripped as you are._ Glancing down: _loveosity love feats love feast lovefest/ loveniks loaders lovathon long love lastinglove/ lovability lovingness removed survived super loved__ _ _

___Then from behind him came the sound of Justin's voice, growing louder the closer the boy came to him, _"loveliness lover beloved loved one love done/ love you love you love you love you"_ As he spoke the last word, he closed his arms around Brian and the man shivered. He said again, _"love you love you love you love you"_ Justin kissed his shoulder. "I love you."_ _ _

___Brian turned in his arms and kissed the teen._ _ _

___"I love you."_ _ _

___Gathering him up, Brian carried him to their bedroom, the cards discarded like items of useless clothing._ _ _

___He loved slow beginnings: lying beneath Brian, the man kissing him until their lips were pink and puffy, feeling his cock brush against his hole, teasing him, begging to be let in, to slide through, and up inside him._ _ _

___He loved slow beginnings: the lazy pumping of Brian's hips, the easy rise and fall of their chests, the throbs of pleasure that pulsed through his body, everything slowed down so that everything was experienced, appreciated, savored._ _ _

___Justin's fingers trailed over Brian's shoulders, back, and ass, accompanied by his feathery whisperings. "Brian. . . Brian. . . "_ _ _

___"Yeah, baby," he said and he kissed the teen knowing that his kisses and the continued movement of his hips were what his lover craved._ _ _

___"Yes. . ." Justin sighed and he gripped Brian's ass and pressed him closer._ _ _

___Brian nuzzled his neck. "Hold on," he told the boy and felt Justin's thighs tighten around him. He turned them over and laid still as Justin adjusted to the new position, getting up on hands and knees above him, still maintaining almost full body contact, his cock hard between their bellies. Slowly, leisurely, Justin began to rock back and forth, sliding up and down Brian's rigid shaft, his cock and balls getting harder each time he rubbed against Brian. Lifting his torso, arms straight beneath him, Justin ground his ass against Brian's groin, the man's dick hard inside him, squeezing him between the walls of his hole. He felt his balls throb and he hissed, head thrown back._ _ _

___His belly was suddenly wet with Justin's cum. "Yeah, baby," he whispered. "More," and Justin convulsed again._ _ _

___When he'd stopped jerking, Justin sat up and ran his hands over his abdomen and chest, then down around his cock, moistening his fingers with the last few drops of jizz. Brian was still inside him, still rock hard and throbbing. Justin relaxed his muscles and slowly rotated his hips. At the end of the circuit, he squeezed. Brian cried out and gripped the sheets. Again Justin swiveled his hips and again Brian cried out as he clamped down on him._ _ _

___Changing motions, Justin began to rise and fall on his lover's dick, still in half time until Brian begged him, "Faster, baby. Faster," and he increased the pace, bouncing on him, milking him. Brian gave a shout and shuddered._ _ _

___Smiling, Justin rode him through his orgasm. "Give it to me," he purred._ _ _

___They slept for an hour before rising to eat brunch. Justin promised Brian southwestern omelets, chorizo, and papaya juice. "And Rolaids," Brian added, perching on the barstool to help chop peppers and onions but Justin shook his head._ _ _

___"It's your birthday. You watch and I'll work."_ _ _

___"That my present?" Brian asked, guessing justin must have discovered hos much he liked to watch him cook._ _ _

___"Uh-uh," he said. "Later. After we eat."_ _ _

___So they ate, Brian praising the meal saying it was the best one he'd had since they'd had dinner with Kenneth Harris._ _ _

___"Wait until dinner."_ _ _

___Brian glimpsed the cards on the floor and thought about the fact that the refrigerator had been been empty last night, and asked, "When did you do all this?"_ _ _

___"Early this morning. You were sleeping pretty soundly."_ _ _

___Ruefully, Brian admitted, "I had a little help."_ _ _

___"Mikey drive you home?"_ _ _

___"Yeah."_ _ _

___Justin laughed. "Remember that pop quiz you gave me in the Jeep the night Gus was born?"_ _ _

___Without pausing to think, he asked, "Do you want to come home with me?"_ _ _

___"A: Yes."_ _ _

___"B: Yes."_ _ _

___"Or C: Yes," Justin said and he lifted Brian's hand and kissed his knuckles, lips brushing over his ring._ _ _

___"You had no fucking idea what you were getting into." Brian ran his fingers over Justin's, over his ring finger. "If you'd known then what you know now, would you still have come?"_ _ _

___"Yes." No hesitation._ _ _

___Brian smiled softly, then asked, "Where's my present?" in his bratty Brian voice._ _ _

___Grateful for the change in mood, Justin went into the bedroom and opened one of the drawers in his chest. Came back and handed the present to Brian who took a moment to admire the soft mauve paper and deep burgandy ribbon and bow before tearing into it. Smiled when he saw what it was. A CD-ROM of Paris for photographers._ _ _

___"It tells you where all the best photo ops are," he said. "And what are the best times of day to shoot each one."_ _ _

___"Thanks, baby," said Brian, pulling Justin down onto his lap for a kiss._ _ _

___"You'll be the next Doisneau."_ _ _

___"We could restage 'The Kiss.' "_ _ _

___"Hey!" exclaimed Justin, the idea having just come to him. "We could do like Billy's Hollywood Screen Kiss and reenact all of his couples photographs."_ _ _

___"Sounds perfect." He lifted the box again. "This is perfect."_ _ _

___And as Brian put down the CD-ROM, Justin added, "Don't forget this," and handed him a piece of heavy cardstock with one word written on it: Wish. Brian looked puzzled so Justin explained. "It's for you. Like a get out of jail free card except this is a wish card." He locked eyes with Brian so that the man would understand exactly what he was saying. "Anything you want. It's yours."_ _ _

___And Brian did understand. This was their way out. For him to use the card and ask Justin to let Xavier go, to come back to him without any conditions or clauses. For things to go back to the way they were. Only, they never could be, not really. And he couldn't use this as a way to get Justin back. It had to be Justin's decision, with no coersion on his part. The time for games was over. He knew that but the card proved that Justin didn't or wasn't willing to admit it, not even to himself. Smiling to let him know he appreciated it, Brian said, "I'll hold onto it." He placed it on top of the CD-ROM box. "For something really important."_ _ _

___Justin kissed him gently on the lips. Use it soon, he pleaded silently. "I love you."_ _ _

___Brian tightened his arms around the teen. "I love you, baby."_ _ _

___After brunch came an afternoon of shopping, Justin saying he'd missed hitting the boutiques with Brian. "Besides," he told the man, "I need new underwear."_ _ _

___"What do you do to those things?" Brian asked._ _ _

___"If you'd stop chewing on them," he began and Brian swatted him on the bottom as they left the loft. "Ow!"_ _ _

___They hit Brian's favorite place first, browsing through the summer suits, the ad exec saying that he needed a new lightweight linen suit but nothing grabbed him, except Justin as they moved behind the rack out of sight. "Behave," Brian warned him._ _ _

___"Or what?"_ _ _

___"Or I'll have to spank you."_ _ _

___"Oh, please," Justin begged in a husky voice, "anything but that."_ _ _

___Brian lowered his lids and a smile curled around his lips like a sunning cat. "Let's go look at the underwear."_ _ _

___"I like the way you're always thinking about my ass," Justin quipped as he walked out in front._ _ _

___Gaze following the boy's swaying hips, Brian growled, "Asshole," and laughed._ _ _

___Having modeled their purchases in the privacy of their own bedroom, Brian lost no time in pulling Justin's briefs down around his knees and spanking the teen soundly, the little cries of discomfort making his cock strain against the front of his cotton thong. When Justin's cheeks were warm and pink, he stopped and kissed each buttock gratefully, slipping his tongue into the crevice of his little boy's ass._ _ _

___Justin moaned and would have allowed Brian to continue but he wanted a taste of his man's cock, having been denied one all day. Easing from beneath Brian's grip, he pushed his lover back onto the bed and spread his thighs, crawled between his legs, and, eyes on Brian's face, closed his mouth around the cotton-covered bulge._ _ _

___"Baby," hissed Brian and that was the last intelligible thing he said for the next ten minutes._ _ _

___Neither one of them bothering to dress, Justin slipped on an apron to make dinner, and the outline of his cock tenting the front and the way the tie draped down between his buttocks in the back kept Brian half-hard all during the preparation. Finally, as the food went into the oven to broil, Brian moved behind him and slipped his hand beneath the skirt. Encountered Justin's hard-on. The teen sighed, then Brian turned him around and dropped to his knees. "Appetizers?" he drawled as Brian devoured his cock._ _ _

___"Uh-huh."_ _ _

___They danced after dinner, gently swaying to the music, remembering (as they could now) the prom and how they'd wowed everyone there. It was good to have closed that chapter of their lives. Even though he had spoken for leniency, Justin didn't know what he would have done if Chris Hobbs' hadn't been convicted and sentenced to any jail time. Fortunately, thanks to Keisha and Brian, he didn't have to deal with that. Stopping, he took Brian's hand and led him from the livingroom._ _ _

___Brian watched him sleep from the doorway. He'd gotten up and disengaged the teen's arms from around him, waiting before moving again to see if Justin would awaken. When he didn't, he slipped from the bed and tiptoed down the steps. But, at the bottom, he turned and stood studying him while he slept. He was still so beautiful. If he'd found him one whit less attractive, less arousing, it would have been marginally easier to let go. As is, it felt like he was tearing out his own heart._ _ _

___He picked up the wish card and the note cards from where they lay on the counter and carried them and the bottle of Jim Beam to the chaise lounge. Set it on the table next to him and sat down, rereading the poems, hearing Justin's voice say, "love you love you love you love you"_ _ _

___Grabbing the bourbon, he took a swig. Closed his eyes and took another. How? How was he going to do it when he could barely think about it?_ _ _

___The Beam wasn't going to help, sitting in the dark alone wasn't going to help, nothing was going to help. Nothing. It would just be another thing he had to do, another impossible thing following a number of impossible things._ _ _

____I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn/ between bitterness and hope/ turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse._ _ _ _

___Turning in his sleep, he felt Brian's warmth next to him, and he settled down once more, everything in its place._ _ _

___A door shutting. That's what the end of love sounded like. A door shutting as one person walked from the room. As another was left behind. Even though he was about to open the door to Xavier's studio, Brian could hear a door shutting in his mind, see Justin walking away from him, leaving him behind just as Cam had. No matter how many times he'd tried to forstall it, the day had finally come._ _ _

___He opened the door without knocking. Xavier was inside sketching on a piece of paper, deep in concentration. Brian watched him for a moment, as he'd watched Justin more than once. As he'd probably never do again. Finally Xavier realized he wasn't alone. Looked up. Figured Brian was looking for Justin. Said casually, "He's not here."_ _ _

___"I know." He was working the evening shift at the diner._ _ _

___So it was like that, then, thought Xavier. "What's up?"_ _ _

___"This isn't working," Brian told him._ _ _

___Instantly, Xavier panicked. "You haven't- -"_ _ _

___"None of us are happy. Not really. And we all know it."_ _ _

___Xavier couldn't refute that. He definitely wasn't. "But he was there for you, for your birthday," Xavier said, thinking it had something to do with that incident._ _ _

___"You think that's what I want? Special occasions? I get St. Patrick's Day and the Fourth of July and you get Christmas and Valentine's Day? I want a life with Justin. Monday through Sunday, paying the bills, buying groceries, babysitting Gus- - " He paused, unable to go on for a moment. "I want it all. I want a life. It's what I thought I had."_ _ _

___"So what does that mean?" Xavier asked, holding his breath. _For me?__ _ _

___The words came hard. "Justin. . . Justin cheated on me to be with you." A long pause. "But he wouldn't give you up to be with me." _Even though he gave me that card, he couldn't do it himself.__ _ _

___Although he thought he knew what Brian meant, he couldn't believe it. "You backing off?"_ _ _

___He had to get out before he broke down. "I'm tired," he said softly, "and I don't want to play anymore." The sound of the door shutting behind him as he left was like a clap of thunder. And the rain, he barely made it to the stairwell before the rain came._ _ _

___ _

___Drew had suspected that something major had happened when Brian had called him wanting an appointment that day, but seeing him now, in his office, he was certain of it. Brian sat in his chair, face already streaked with dried tears. He looked as if he was barely holding it together. "Brian?"_ _ _

___"I can't do this anymore."_ _ _

___He didn't ask if he was sure, he was, you could see it in his eyes: the devestation, the loss. "Have you told Justin?"_ _ _

___"I talked to Xavier. So he'll know soon enough." The tears began again and he made no attempt to wipe them away. "I just- - I can't do it anymore."_ _ _

___Moving closer, Drew said, "It's okay."_ _ _

___Brian shook his head. "I don't know how I'm gonna live without him," and he covered his face and wept because the pain, the pain was almost more than he could stand and, yet, he had to do it because it was killing him, this thing with Justin and Xavier, and he had to save himself before there was nothing left. And, still, he hated himself for leaving, for giving up but he had to, there was no other way. He'd done everything he could and nothing had worked and he was so tired. . . And that card, that Justin hadn't been able to walk away from Xavier on his own, it was more than he could stand._ _ _

___Drew held him as he cried. "We'll get through this," he promised him._ _ _

___"I'm scared," he whispered, needing Justin to hold him but Justin wasn't there, wouldn't be there ever again._ _ _

___"I'll be here when you need me. And your friends. Your family. We'll help you," said Drew. "You won't be alone."_ _ _

___"It hurts," Brian confessed. More than anything had ever hurt him, more than he had thought possible. At any moment he expected his body to split open, unable to contain it all but it didn't because the pain had become a part of him, inseparable from his flesh and bones._ _ _

___"It won't always."_ _ _

___But it would. That much he knew. The same way it always hurt him to think about Cam. Now, there would be this other pain, greater than before, shadowing his heartbeat._ _ _

___There were two things left to do. The card was in his jacket pocket. He removed it and tore it in half. There were no such things as free wishes. Everything had to be paid for out here in the really real world. He took hold of his ring as if to pull it off and paused. _Forever Faithful, Justin,_ that's what it said on the inside. He remembered telling the jeweler the words to engrave, thinking it'd be more of a test for him than Justin, thinking to himself, I have to put him first now, remembering how proud he'd been of himself for taking this final step._ _ _

____It won't always be easy."_ _ _ _

____"Never has been," Justin said, laughing and sniffling at the same time._ _ _ _

____"But that's us. And I want everyone to know. That we're together."_ _ _ _

____"You think someone might try to steal me away?"_ _ _ _

____"You're not going anywhere," Brian replied, full of confidence._ _ _ _

____And Justin agreed. "No. I'm not."_ _ _ _

___But he had gone away._ _ _

___Brian rubbed his finger over the design that ran along the middle of the ring. A Celtic knot. Symbolizing forever. Four months. Four fucking months. Closing his eyes, he pulled the ring from his finger and held it in his palm._ _ _

___It was done._ _ _

___ _

___"Sunshine?"_ _ _

___He looked around, a tray full of dirty dishes in his hands._ _ _

___"You forgot your tip."_ _ _

___"Oh." Absent-mindedly, he pocketed it._ _ _

___Deb frowned. He'd been only half there all evening, mind occupied with some other problem. His shift was almost over and she was glad. Maybe then he could go deal with whatever it was._ _ _

___ _

___Xavier wasn't suprised to see him at the door of his studio. He'd been expecting it. Hoping for it. Brian's news had just about driven him crazy. He hadn't been able to work at all after the man had left. Finally, he'd taken out his cell and called Nana Rose. He could still hear her saying, "Xavier, I can't tell you what to do no more. You're a grown man. You've got to make your own decisions. But I suspect you know what you're going to do. You just wanted to hear Nana's voice, ain't that right?" and he'd laughed and said, "Yes," and, "I love you, Nana."_ _ _

___Now he heard her voice in his head as Justin entered the room hesitantly. "Hey, J."_ _ _

___"Hey."_ _ _

___Justin had made no move to come closer or to kiss him. And that's when he knew, truly knew what he had to do. He waited a moment, then said, "Brian came by tonight."_ _ _

___"For what?" Justin asked, alarmed._ _ _

___"He said he's backing off, giving you up." Before Justin could respond to that, Xavier added, "But you're not giving him up, are you?"_ _ _

___Justin shook his head. "Can't."_ _ _

___"I know," Xavier told him. "I've known all along, I guess. Just wanted to enjoy it while I could."_ _ _

___"I love you, Xavier."_ _ _

___Nodding, he said, "I know you do. And I love you. A lot. But he loves you more." He smiled. "When we were together, you know? I could tell. By the way he is around you."_ _ _

___"How?"_ _ _

___"Satisfied. It's like you're the only thing he wants or needs."_ _ _

___"What about you?"_ _ _

___"I need you too. And I want you. But I want other things too. I want to be a good sculptor, I want to go places and meet different people. . . And I could do that with you, I know, but Brian, he doesn't need any of that. He'd be happy just being with you. And you'd be happy and satisfied being with him. Cause you've got a life together. You don't have to go out and find one, it's right there. And you've worked hard for it. I can't mess that up."_ _ _

___"What about you?"_ _ _

___Xavier smiled and cocked his head, a twinkle in his eye. "I'm gone get a hot, blond twinkie of my own."_ _ _

___"There's no one like me," boasted Justin._ _ _

___Quietly, "I know."_ _ _

___"And I am not a twinkie."_ _ _

___"Let's see: golden on the outside, creamy on the inside," Xavier teased. "Sounds like a twinkie to me."_ _ _

___Laughing as Xavier had intended, Justin asked, "You sure about this?"_ _ _

___"Ain't you?"_ _ _

___"No more lies?"_ _ _

___"No more."_ _ _

___"No more running home to hide?"_ _ _

___"Uh-uh."_ _ _

___Justin told him, "Emmett always says to let your little light shine."_ _ _

___"Not so little," Xavier bragged._ _ _

___"Got that right," agreed Justin. "And we're still friends?"_ _ _

___After a pause, Xavier said, "The best."_ _ _

___"Truth?"_ _ _

___"Honest to God."_ _ _

___"You let Nana Rose hear you using the Lord's name in vain, she'll whip your butt."_ _ _

___"You gone give me up?" asked Xavier. The other meaning made itself clear to the both of them. They moved together and hugged one another._ _ _

____Do you remember looking out over the Potomac from the top of the Washington Monument? Do you remember holding hands beneath the table in that restaurant in Dupont Circle? Dancing with Nana Rose? Stealing a kiss behind a hedge in Georgetown? All the things they couldn't say would remain inside their hearts, packed away like keepsakes. They parted, then came together again and stood holding one another. I remember. . ._ _ _ _

___Justin pulled away, at last, and began walking towards the door. Xavier chuckled. "Maybe Rennie'll talk to us now. Daphne too."_ _ _

___"And it's been soo nice and quiet." Justin gave a little wave. "See you Monday."_ _ _

___"Later, Boy Wonder."_ _ _

___As he passed through the doorway, Justin felt a little twinge of sadness. He'd never be J again._ _ _

___ _

___Brian heard the door slide open and made himself remain in the bedroom. He would do this and mourn and then go on with his life. Justin walked up the steps and paused and Brian nearly faltered but he forced out the question. "You see Xavier?"_ _ _

___"Yeah."_ _ _

___He sniffled to keep back the tears. "Come to get your stuff?"_ _ _

___"I came to get what's mine."_ _ _

___So it was truly over. Not able to watch him pack, Brian started past Justin when the teen caught his arm. Pulled his head down and kissed him._ _ _

___"You didn't think I'd let you go, did you? You're mine. Forever and ever. That's what I promised," the boy said, voice thick with emotion. "That's what I mean."_ _ _

___"But what about- -"_ _ _

___Justin silenced his question with a kiss. "Just you and me. That's all that matters." He took Brian's right hand in his and slid his ring back onto the third finger. "You left this on the counter. Better be careful or you might lose it next time."_ _ _

___"Never," promised Brian, throwing his arms around Justin and holding him. "Never, baby," he whispered again, heart beating so hard against his chest that he gasped._ _ _

____all i ever wanted/ all i ever needed/ is here in my arms. . ._ ******_ _ _

___"Never again," Justin averred and even if he'd never be J again, he would always be Brian's baby. He pulled apart from his lover and handed Brian a piece of heavy cardstock._ _ _

___Taking it, Brian examined both sides and saw that it was blank. Puzzled, he started to ask why and then he realized why. They had no need for wishes or words._ _ _

____words are very unnecessary/ they can only do harm. . ._ _ _ _

___The vows they'd taken that New Year's Day still held true. Drawing Justin into his arms, he closed his eyes, content once more._ _ _

___ _

___In the hours after midnight, they slept entwined, undaunted by the impermanence of love and unaware of the immortality of the moon and stars._ _ _

___ _

___**Songs and Poetry** _ _ _

___* from "Enjoy the Silence," by Martin L. Gore, EMI Blackwood Music Inc. (BMI), 1990._ _ _

___** from "Fallen" by Alicia Keyes, Lellow Music Publishing/EMI Music Publishing (ASCAP), 2001._ _ _

___*** from "At the Zoo" by Paul Simon, 1968._ _ _

___**** from "XIII: Dedications" by Adrienne Rich in An Atlas of the Difficult World, W.W. Norton & Company, 1991._ _ _

___***** from "Love Poem" by Dudley Randall in Love You, Paul Breman, 1970._ _ _

___****** from "Enjoy the Silence," by Martin L. Gore, EMI Blackwood Music Inc. (BMI), 1990._ _ _


	6. Metal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin struggle with the consequences of their experiences with Xavier; and Brian lays the last of his demons to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday fic for Judi

_…thinks about all of life's mystery  
And how slowly the answers unfold 1_

Platinum: a malleable, ductile and sectile metal, meaning it can be pounded into other shapes, stretched into a wire, and cut into slices; also, it does not tarnish.

*

 

Brian woke in the middle of the night in a panic and reached back to make sure Justin was there next to him. His heart didn’t stop racing until he felt the teen’s smooth skin beneath his fingers. And still he couldn’t return to sleep. _He’s here_ , he assured himself. _It’s okay._

But it wasn’t.

In four hours he’d have to get up, and shower, and go to work and act as if everything was back to normal and it wasn’t and he didn’t know what to do. He woke almost every night. The time varied but, inevitably, he emerged from some dream or out of the deepest sleep thinking he was alone, that Justin was gone. Sometimes Justin woke as well, feeling him stir, and held him until they dropped off again and sometimes Justin slept on leaving him to lie awake, staring up at the ceiling until sleep claimed him once more. Two days ago he’d wakened around five and hadn’t been able to relax, counting the minutes until the alarm went off. This time Justin didn’t wake up, exhausted from a long day, so Brian closed his eyes, hoping the next four hours would pass quickly.

At some point he drifted into a dream.  
He was in the loft and they were having a party. The place was packed with their friends and the usual moochers who showed up whenever the word party was mentioned. Mostly former sex partners of his--which is how he'd met most of them anyway. He kept catching glimpses of Justin through the crowd but the teen never came completely and clearly into view. Plus he was in a weird position himself. Lying on the chaise lounge, flat on his back. He started to get up, to go after Justin, and he couldn’t move. His arms and legs and head felt like lead. Panicked, he tried to call to Justin and couldn’t. He couldn’t open his mouth. Trying as hard as he could, feeling the sweat trickle down the back of his neck from the effort, he finally managed to make a sound like the Tin Man made in The Wizard of Oz before Dorothy oiled his hinges, a sound so faint that no one heard him. And then he saw the shadow coming towards him. Small. Unnoticed by anyone else. But as it moved steadily towards him his panic grew because he knew that if the shadow touched him it'd devour him whole. Eyes wide open in fear, he fought against his paralysis but it did no good, no one saw the danger and he couldn’t tell them and so the shadow continued to inch towards him, resolute and implacable. Locked in his mind, a scream reverberated until his teeth shook.

Justin tugged him awake. Gasping, he sat up, breathing hard and trembling. “Brian? You all right?”

He fell back against the bed, wet from sweating. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

”You were moaning.”

”I’m fine.”

Not believing him for an instant, Justin curled up against him, hand on his chest. “It’s okay,” he said, stroking Brian’s bare skin. “It’s okay."

But it wasn’t. 

 

Brian looked good-- looked great as usual-- but Drew knew that was a defense mechanism, a way to assert control over some facet of his life. The man was a classic control freak but being involved with a teenager had jarred him, caused his generally strong grip on things to slip. From what he had revealed to Drew (with or without his awareness), Brian's early home life had been marked by chaotic stability and, unwittingly, he had replicated the feel, if not the exact circumstances, in his adult life. The drugs and the tricks all had the hallmarks of a life out of control and yet Brian had been rigid in his application and experience. He had virtually winnowed out anything that didn't fall within a narrowly defined idea of what his life should be and how he would live it. Not that he hadn't enjoyed his life--Drew was convinced that he had, in general--but there had been no room for new experiences and, consequently, he'd had no coping mechanisms, except avoidance.

And then along came Gus and Justin. On the same night. You couldn't get more symbolic than that. It was almost as if the Divine Shifter (as Drew thought of God) had decided that now was the time to move the pieces into play so that even in a haze Brian couldn't have missed the significance of the two events, couldn't deny their importance. And yet he had. Abdicated responsibility for his son for as long as he could and had pushed Justin away. Luckily for him, Lindsay had had no intention of letting him off the hook where his son was concerned and Justin, being seventeen and in love for the first time, hadn't understood the rules of the game Brian had played.

Now, almost two years later, Brian was a different person and Gus and Justin were firmly ensconced in his life. Despite the problems they were having, Drew was convinced that the two men were meant to be together. It was why he'd brought up the idea of the triad in the first place, to give them a better chance at staying together. To keep them connected. And it'd almost backfired.

"You know what the dreams mean, don’t you?" asked Drew, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah."

The therapist crossed his legs, regarded Brian with concern. "What do you want to do about it?"

"Make them stop."

"How?"

Brian laughed. "That's why I'm paying you an exorbitant amount of money."

"I can prescribe something to help you sleep--"

"That's not the problem."

"Then what is?"

Knowing Drew wanted him to verbalize it—Drew was big on verbalizing—Brian acquiesced. "I'm not over what happened."

"And you thought you would be? In what? Two weeks?"

"No." He shook his head. "I thought—I don't know what I thought. I hoped—wished that we could just…go on like it never happened."

"But it did happen."

He chuckled again. "Seems so harmless when you say it like that. 'It happened.' "

"What would you prefer to say? To call 'it'?"

"Doesn't matter. Just words."

"That stand for something real. Poor, paltry words. But they're what we have to work with. So what does 'it' mean to you? What do you mean when you say 'It happened'?"

Instead of answering that question, Brian said, "I never thought I would be so weak."

"In what way?"

"I let it happen."

"Let what happen?"

Finally he defined what he meant. "Let us fall apart."

"Don't you think Justin and Xavier had something to do with that? And you didn't fall apart. You're still together."

"And I'm not sleeping, I'm having these fucking dreams, and I feel—" He stopped himself.

"What, Brian? What do you feel?" Drew knew that he had to press the advantage now that Brian had given him an opening.

"Like—like—" He looked away. "Like I've lost him."

"But you haven't."

"Then why do I feel so alone?" He hated admitting that, yet another failure. "Even when he's there next to me, I feel like I'm in the middle of a fucking ocean. Just—drifting."

"Have you talked to Justin about this?"

"I can't."

"Brian—"

"I'm tired of us being in trouble. I want to make love to him and not feel like he's slipping through my fingers. I want—" He started again. "I want us to be okay again."

"You will be. It's just going to take time. And hard work." But the most important part was, "You need to talk to him, tell him how you feel. You can't do this alone and, Brian, he's scared too and I'm sure he feels the same way you do." Giving the man time to absorb all that, Drew made a suggestion. "We should all meet. Talk about this."

With a trace of his former wit, Brian asked, "Don't you have some kind of miracle cure you could give us instead?"

"It'll mean more this way."

"What? If we suffer?" He smiled. "I'd settle for a handful of magic beans."

Drew grinned. "And what would you do with a beanstalk that big?"

"Fuck the sky." _Wasn't that obvious?_

Taking them a couple glasses of water, Justin said hi to Emmett and Ted, in for dinner, and debated trying to push the special on them since the chef was already feeling insecure and if not one ordered the special who knew how he'd take it. As a personal affront most likely. Same way he thought Justin was only being coy when he refused his advances despite the ring on Justin's finger and despite his having seen Justin with Brian in the diner.

"Hey, Boy Wonder," said Ted.

"Hey, baby." Emmett made room for Justin next to him. "Sit down."

"Can't. I only have an hour to go," he told him.

"So? You need a break. You look tired." He did, the way the sun did on an overcast day, wan and dim.

Not wanting to expose Brian's problems to public scrutiny but needing advice, Justin sat next to Emmett and said softly, "Brian…hasn't been sleeping."

"More time for fucking," Ted joked but he knew what Justin was saying same as Em. They'd all noticed the bags under Brian's eyes, the jerky movements bespeaking a lack of sleep and, despite his efforts not to show it, they all knew how devestated he'd been by Justin's betrayal. "Look, he'll be fine. He always is." Which was true. Brian could take care of himself. He guessed.

Emmett concurred although his bedside manner was better. "Ted's right, sweetie. Brian just needs a little time, that's all." _There's no one better at coming out on top than Brian._

But Justin slipped from the booth, dissatisfied. "That's not all."

"What's not all?" Deb asked, coming up behind him.

"Justin's worried about Brian," Em said casually, mind already on what he would going to order. Which was not the special.

"Well, he should be," she said. "He's a fuckin' mess." The guys all looked at her guiltily. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

"I don't know."

"Well, who else is gonna know if you don't? He's your partner, your lover, so you fix it. That's what you signed on to do so get to it. You've been fucking around long enough."

"Deb—" She wasn't being fair. He had tried, Brian just--

"Don’t Deb me. You should have never gotten involved with Xavier in the first place but you did. We all make mistakes. So fine. It's over. But it's not over because Brian can't forget. And he shouldn't. You hurt him, Sunshine, more than anyone's ever hurt him before. He's not going to get over it in a day." God, that felt good. It was what she'd been dying to say all along. Of all the stupidity... a fuckin' threesome. She could have told them that was gonna blow up in their faces. Brian didn't share. Toys, secrets, or lovers.

"I didn't expect him to. I just—I've said I'm sorry a hundred times and I mean it and I'd do anything, I just don't know what to do."

She patted him on the shoulder. Even though she wanted to smack him sometimes, she loved him; he was a good kid and he wanted to be a good partner to Brian. "Then ask him."

"He won't talk about it."

"You make him. Cause until he does, you're never gonna be able to go forward. You're just gonna keep spinning your wheels." She left him standing by their table and went for a pickup, her job done for the moment.

Justin thought about what she said. It was up to him. Still, now was not the time to think about it. He took out his pad. "So what do you guys want?" 

 

Since Justin had the afternoon shift at the diner he'd bring something when he got off work, so Brian sat and waited for him to arrive with dinner. Aware that drinking on an empty stomach was not the wisest move he could make he, nevertheless, poured a shot of Beam and stretched out on the sofa. His session with Drew stayed on his mind and he knew the shrink was right but he wished that he wasn't, wished that they didn't have to go back into therapy, wished—What? That, for once, he could have gotten a fucking break. Jesus, sometimes he wondered if he hadn't been cursed from birth. And then he berated himself for being stupid because he knew that he hadn't been. This was just life. Shit happened. Happened to everyone. Emmett hadn't exactly had an idyllic childhood down in Mississippi; and Mikey hadn't rejoiced at not having a dad no matter how many times Brian had told him it wasn't all it was cracked up to be; and Ted, well, Ted had been Ted which meant that he'd probably spent most of his childhood being…Ted. He was like fucking Eeyore.

So things had gone wrong. It happened. So he'd gotten his heart broken. Again. He'd survive. The important thing was that they were together and they'd figure it out together. Tightening his fingers on his glass, he laid it against his forehead momentarily before finishing off his drink and wished he'd put in a couple cubes of ice.

The door rattled as Justin unlocked it.

Carrying his empty glass with him, Brian hoped that the teen didn’t jump to conclusions. Justin thought he drank too much anyway. And smoked too much. He had cut back on the E and the Special K though, only lit up a doobie every now and again. To keep Justin happy with him. Grinning ruefully, he went into the kitchen and waited for Justin to lock the door behind him. They kissed briefly as the teenager put the food on the counter. Not mentioning the smell of alcohol on Brian's breath, Justin told him, "I got chicken vindaloo and some naan. The diner didn't have anything good tonight."

"What a surprise." He got down two plates and a serving platter for the naan. "I'm starving."

Dinner was another quiet affair; they'd been having a lot of those lately. Silence meant you didn't have to talk about hurtful things so you could concentrate on eating your food and cleaning your plate. They'd both learned those things from their parents. How many silent meals had they witnessed/participated in between the two of them?

Looking over at Brian, at the way he avoided his eyes, at the way he paused every so often and stared at nothing, Justin decided to speak. "Brian?"

"Hmm?"

He waited until Brian raised his eyes. "Tell me what to do."

It would have been easy to lie, to pretend that he didn't know what Justin was talking about and even though he'd promised Drew that he'd talk to Justin about their problems, he wasn't really up to it, not tonight, not on four or five hours sleep and eight hours at work and one really tough hour with the therapist and an hour and a half of waiting for Justin to come home. But Justin had asked. "I saw Drew today."

Fear gripped him. He hoped he'd be able to keep it out of his voice. "And?"

"And he thinks we need to start seeing him again. Actually, he thinks we never should have stopped in the first place. We're the fucking poster boys for lifelong therapy."

"What do you think?"

Brian laughed and spread his hands helplessly. "I think I'm about to go fuckin' crazy. I think if I don't get a good night's sleep, I'm gonna lose it. And if we don't work this out--"

"Brian—"

"--we're gonna lose each other," he continued

The trembling began again and he hid his hands beneath the table, in his lap, but his whole body shook so there was no point. "I'm sorry." So fucking inadequate but it was all he had. An apology and a love so strong it moved him even when he didn't want to be moved.

"I know you are," Brian said softly. "I know, baby."

He wiped at his eyes. "When do we start?" 

 

That night Brian palmed a couple of sleeping pills, not caring that he'd pay for it later, just wanting to sleep through the night without dreaming. As he slipped under, he felt Justin's body move closer to his and took comfort from the warmth, nestling into it. 

 

Glancing around the reception area, Justin leaned into Brian and whispered, "I'm beginning to hate this place."

Brian smiled. "Me too," and they laughed, for the first time together in a while. That first night, after Justin had come back to him, they'd spent slowly making love, too glad that they'd made it to think about anything except that they were together. They hadn't thought of consequences, had only held onto one another and kissed as if they'd been apart for months, made love desperately yet gratefully. It had only been in the morning, when they'd awakened, that they'd realized their reconciliation was far from complete. It'd been a small thing, a matter of making plans for the upcoming weekend, Justin wanting to go to a movie Friday night and Brian saying, "What about you and—" and stopping, remembering that there was no longer any Justin and Xavier and yet not really believing it in his heart and Justin had moved away from him, hurt that Brian doubted him and they'd stood there, lost for a moment before turning to other tasks, to showering and fixing breakfast and forgetting. Only neither of them could, not really, not with Justin heading off to class, to see Xavier, and Brian heading off to work, to worry about it, the fear gnawing at him like a cancer in his gut. They should have called Drew then, should have gone to see him that moment, should have never put it off, never have fooled themselves into believing they could heal the rift between them with sex and good intentions.

So here they were, two weeks later, waiting to talk to Drew with two weeks more of shit to dissect and analyze. But they were here. That was the first step, that they realized they needed help. Looking over at Brian, taking note of the stillness that seemed to surround him, Justin again, silently, asked him for forgiveness. Because he knew the man was barely holding it together, was using the stillness to buffer his faltering resolve. Like a penniless whore, gathering the once glamorous rags of her former life around her, Brian grasped at his remaining shreds of strength and it hurt Justin to watch him do it. "You okay?" he asked needlessly because he knew he wasn't.

"Yeah," Brian replied, following the script. 

 

Each in his place, the two lovers waited for Drew to begin with his infernal questions. "So," he said, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his lap, "how's tricks?"

Brian laughed, the sound like a burst of gunfire. He shook his head. "Doc…" Laughed again, this time softer. Justin merely smiled, a bit concerned. Still, anything that could make Brian laugh, even if it was slightly tinged with hysteria, was a good thing.

"Well?"

Taking the lead, Justin said, "We're here."

"Why?"

"Because I fucked up our relationship."

"And you want me to do what? Give you a lollipop?"

Angry at the therapist's levity, Justin snarled, "I want you to fucking help us."

"Ah, now that's different."

Realizing what he'd said in the first place and why Drew had responded as he had, Justin, nevertheless, grumbled, "Asshole."

"Maybe so, but I'm the one with the psych degree and you're the ones with the fucked-up relationship."

That stung, just as Drew no doubt intended it to. Even Brian sat forward in his chair, pain etched on his face.

"You don't like what you're hearing?" asked Drew. "Good. Cause that's not what I'm here for. You want babying, go talk to your friends or your parents. I'm here to tell you the truth, not some tarted-up lie so you can feel good about yourselves. You're right, you fucked up your relationship," he told Justin. "But you didn't do it alone. You had help," he said, looking at Brian. "You were wrong," he explained," and I'm not talking about being wrong in some kind of absolute, moral way, I mean you made a mistake. We all did. We all sat in this room and we fucked up. Big time. All trying to keep the two of you together and all the while we weren't doing a damn thing but tearing you apart. I was wrong," he admitted to them, "and I'm sorry."

"No." Brian disagreed. "You tried to stop me. You wanted to call it off but I wouldn't. I thought it was my only chance."

"Because I forced you into a corner," Justin said. "I was greedy and I didn't care how much I was hurting you. I just wanted it to be okay, I wanted everything to be okay but I didn't want to work for it."

Before Brian could answer, Drew stepped back into the conversation. "So we were all wrong. Now what? Where do we go from here?"

"We want our life back the way it was," Justin answered.

"You can't have it back." Drew paused, waited for one of them to object. Neither did. "You can't go back. You can only go forward."

"What does that mean?"

And Brian said, "It means that nothing is ever going to be the same again," and the sadness in his voice made Drew wish he could have lied to them.

"That’s right," he said and then offered them a glimmer of hope. "But things could be just as good or even better. They don't have to be worse, you know. I think that's something to strive for, don't you? For things to be better than they were. For your relationship to be stronger, better than it was." In the silence that ensued, Drew opened his notepad. "So let's talk about where we are right now and where we want to be when we're done. I want each of you to tell me how you feel now and how you want to feel, say, a month from now. Brian, why don't you go first?"

With a glance at Justin, Brian began to speak. "I feel…"

"Go on." _Don't stop now._

"I feel alone." Again he paused, not wanting to hurt Justin with his confession but Drew was looking at him, waiting for him to explain. "And scared." Shit. "Like there's no one I can depend on to stand by me."

"What about Justin?" And, sadly, Brian shook his head. "It's okay," Drew reassured him.

"No, it's not. I know that he's here with me, I know that, and I want to trust him, I want to think that if I needed him, he'd be there for me."

Justin stirred, looked away from Brian, down at his hands. His chest felt so tight, felt as if his heart was going to burst through.

"It used to be that even if we were miles apart, I could still feel him. Now, it's like we're a world apart even when we're in the same room. I keep having these fucking dreams and I wake up knowing that he's gone, that he's left me—"

"I would never leave you," Justin told him, unable to keep silent any longer.

"But you did leave. You were gone."

"No." Justin denied the charge. "I never left you."

"Every week when you walked out to be with him, it felt like you were never coming back." _And sometimes I think I didn't want you to, so that it'd be over, so that I could stop hoping._

"But I did!" insisted Justin. "I did come back."

"And every time you did come home, it seemed like there was less and less of you left, until it felt like you were gone. To be with him."

"But I left him for you. I love you. Brian—" Justin's eyes were shiny. "Don't you believe that?"

And Brian was silent for so long that Justin thought he would have to leave the room because if Brian didn't believe that he still loved him, then they had nothing.

"I believe you," Brian said softly. "I know that you love me. And I love you."

"You just don't trust me." A tear rolled down his cheek. He lowered his head.

"Do you trust Justin?" Drew asked Brian and watched as the man debated his answer. "The truth, Brian. Do you trust Justin? Do you believe him when he tells you that he'll never leave you?"

And once upon a time, just five short months ago, the answer would have been yes. Without hesitation. He hesitated. Said barely above a whisper of the wind in the eaves, "No."

Justin stood and it was only Drew's hand on his arm that stilled him. He sat again, not looking at Brian.

"What would it take for you to trust Justin again?"

"I don't know!" Brian bellowed, the desperation in his voice matched by the wildness in his eyes. He slumped in his chair. "I don't know."

"Then why the fuck are we even here?" Justin asked. "If he doesn't know—"

"We'll find out, Justin. We'll do it together."

The misery washed over him leaving his face tear-streaked. "I didn't mean it. I never meant to hurt you. Please," he pleaded with Brian, "please say you believe me."

"But you knew it would, Justin." Brian wiped his own face. "And I begged you not to. I did everything I could to stop you and you wouldn't."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I know you are."

And Justin saw the truth in Brian's eyes. That it didn't matter if he was sorry or not. Brian hadn't forgiven him. Stealing a breath, Justin fought down the panic that had arisen.

When it seemed as if neither of them was going to say anything more, Drew asked Brian, "What would you like to accomplish in the next four weeks?"

But instead of answering, Brian stood and walked from the room.

Wearily, Drew said to no one in particular, "Bet you couldn't see that coming."

"What am I going to do?" Justin asked and Drew moved into the chair vacated by Brian.

"Be patient. He's hurting, Justin."

"I'm hurting too."

"This is twice now this has happened to him," Drew explained and he could tell by the look on Justin's face that he hadn't thought of that.

"Shit." He said the name aloud. "Cam."

"So it's not just you he's dealing with, it's you and Cam and the fact that he can't ever satisfactorily resolve what happened between them."

"He said they'd settled it."

"They made peace by agreeing not to deal with it anymore. That's not the same thing. I don't want that to happen to you. Which is why no matter how hard it gets, you don't give up on him, or yourself. Even if he does, you stick with it because he needs you, Justin, and he loves you. He loves you more than anything in this world."

"And all I did was hurt him."

"You hurt each other. That's the way life is. But it doesn't have to end there."

"How can I do anything if he won't talk to me?"

"He'll come around. He's on BK" --Brian Kinney-- "Time so you know it'll take a little bit longer," Drew teased and Justin smiled, just a flicker of a smile but enough to let the therapist know that he'd gotten through to him. At that moment, Brian returned looking more than a little hang-dogged. "That'll be fifty dollars extra," Drew announced.

"For what?" asked Brian, frowning.

"For walking out on the session. And it'll be fifty dollars extra every time you do. Got it?"

"Asshole," mumbled Brian.

"Well, that's one thing you and Justin both agree on. Now, can we get on with this? I'd like to go home sometime this evening."

"Hot date?" Brian smirked.

"Volcanic."

And Brian laughed at the image of Drew sitting on top of a volcano, hot white lava flowing from between his legs and, as if he knew exactly what Brian was thinking, Justin laughed too.

Drew grinned. Least that hadn't changed. If they could still laugh together there might be hope for them after all. 

 

There was a message from Lindsay waiting for them when they got back home. Wanting to know if they'd take Gus for the night next Friday.

"What do you think?" Brian asked Justin.

He shrugged. "Your call."

Although he couldn't imagine being in the mood to run after Gus all evening, he couldn't turn Lindsay down. She'd been there for him during this entire fiasco and he owed her. And maybe, just maybe Gus was what he needed to get him out of this funk. As he made to call Lindz he caught a glimpse of Justin stripping and paused, struck again by the teen's beauty. He turned away and shut his eyes for good measure. After a moment, he picked up the phone and dialed Lindz's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I got your message."

"Can you do it?"

"Why the advance notice?"

"To make sure you were free."

"What time do you want me to come and get him?"

She paused. "Bri? Everything okay?"

"Yeah. What time?" Fuck, she always knew when he was lying and he was lying like a rug right now.

"Look, we can get a sitter—"

"I asked what time?"

"Six?"

"Fine. Later." He hung up before she had a chance to quiz him any further. Fuck. He sat on the arm of the sofa, facing his computer. He could hear Justin in the shower. What the fuck was he going to do? Everything was shot to hell and their visit to Drew's office hadn't exactly done the trick and he felt like he was about to go into nuclear meltdown at any moment. _Maybe I just need to think about something else._ Taking his Mapplethorpe book down from the shelf, he sat on the carpet in front of the sofa and cracked it open. And remembered

Justin giving him the book on their anniversary

A cabin full of flowers and candles

Them making love most of the evening

He closed the book and leaned his forehead against the top edge. Christ. What the fuck was he going to do? A tear slid down his cheek and onto the front cover. He hadn't heard the shower stop nor did he hear Justin as he came down the steps and paused, watching him cry. He was so deep inside the misery that a twenty megaton bomb could have gone off inside the loft and he wouldn't have noticed.

Justin watched him until he couldn't stand it any longer and went into the kitchen to see about dinner. That, at least, he could do without fucking it up.

As he deveined the shrimp for the Pad Thai, he thought of all the meals they'd shared, the simple joy that had come from just being together. He saw, in his mind, Brian sitting on the other side of the counter crushing garlic for a sauce or crying as he chopped an onion, refusing to do as the books said and place a potato on the end of his knife, saying it looked stupid. Then saw Xavier sitting in Brian's place, watching him cook. Leaving his work, Justin opened the Beam and took down a glass. Poured a shot and knocked it back. But the burn wasn't enough to numb the pain he felt. He could drink a pint of bourbon and still it wouldn't help. Putting the bottle back in place, he returned to preparing dinner. Alone.

 

Brian's hair was still damp from his shower. Water dripped down along his jaw. Justin reached with his napkin to wipe his face and stopped. Withdrew the offer. Then, angrily, he said, "I feel like I don't have any right to touch you."

"I'm sorry."

"And then what? You're sorry, I'm sorry, we're all sorry and it doesn't mean shit." He carried his plate and glass to the kitchen. They rattled as he placed them in the sink. "Tell me what to do!"

"Justin—"

He rushed back to Brian and knelt by him. Gripped his leg. "Tell me."

But Brian could only shake his head. He didn't know.

And Justin laid his cheek against Brian's thigh and cried because he was scared, really scared that there was no way out of this mess except that they be apart.

Softly, Brian stroked the nape of the teen's neck. _Oh, baby_ … After a few moments, Justin raised his head and Brian drew him up into his arms and held him, both of them trembling. He thumbed away a tear from Justin's cheek. Kissed him tenderly. "We'll make it," he whispered against his skin. "I promise." He tightened his arms around the boy. "I just don't know how," he confessed, unable to lie to him. 

Next Friday finally arrived, the days having stumbled and lurched by as if time itself had been exhausted by their trials. Knocking on the front door, Brian waited for the Munchers to answer and hand over the rugrat. God, he hoped Lindsay wasn't in one of her talking moods. He just wanted to grab Gus and hit the road. He'd been talked to death these past two weeks. Unfortunately, Lindz took one look at him and pulled him inside the house.

"Lindsay—"

"Sit. Mel's getting Gus ready." She craned her neck and yelled up the stairs. "Mel! Brian's here!"

"All right!" the other woman yelled back down and Brian winced. No way was Gus gonna be the strong, silent type with these two as role models. Of course, he'd seen him and Justin yell at one another too and not always pleasantly. Shit, just like his parents.

"So what's wrong?" she asked, sitting on the sofa.

He sighed and gave up, sat in an armchair near her. "Same shit."

"You and Justin still having problems?"

That made him laugh. "Problems?" He laughed again. "That's a fucking understatement." He sobered. "I swear, Lindsay, sometimes I think all I'm doing is reliving my old man's life, just twenty times worse."

"Don’t say that."

"Why not?" he asked, standing up and pacing the floor. "It's true."

She refused to concede the point. "No, it isn't. You're just going through a rough spell—"

"A rough spell?" He stared at her as if she'd turned blue and sprouted an extra set of arms. "Lindsay, my life's a fucking mess. I don’t even know—" No. He wouldn’t say it. Couldn't.

Going to him, she touched his arm. "Where's Justin?"

"Studio. Their last show is Wednesday and he's freakin' out cause he's behind." His jaw tightened and she cupped his face.

"You have to have faith."

Closing his eyes, he rasped, "I'm so tired, Lindsay."

"I know." She kissed him. "I know." As Mel came down the stairs with Gus in her arms, she told him, "We'll find a sitter."

But Gus had seen him and wriggled and squirmed, shouting, "Dada!"

Preparing to be attacked by a tiny whirlwind, Brian shook his head. "It's okay. I could use the company."

Only, as he and Gus pulled from the house in the Jeep, Lindsay couldn't help but feel that what he really needed was some time alone, away from everything and everyone. She'd never seen him so low, not even after Cam.

"I never thought I'd see the day when I felt sorry for that asshole, but I do," said Mel before leaving Lindsay to close the door. 

 

Gus had called for Pooh for about five minutes before settling down, sniffling a little as he sat in his daddy's lap and watched The Rugrats, taking bites of the dinner Brian was trying to feed him in between eating his own meal. But neither of them had much appetite. Finally, Brian pushed aside both their plates and gave up. Maybe Gus would eat when Justin returned. Unfortunately, Justin returning home would do little to improve his appetite.

After an hour of watching one garish colored cartoon replace another, Gus began to get restless so Brian got out his fire truck and pushed him around on it for a while until Gus momentarily screeched himself out of energy. Then it was back to the sofa to play with Beh while Brian cleared away the dishes and tried to ignore the clock which said that Justin would probably be home in a little while.

But another hour passed and still Justin hadn't appeared. And Gus was getting sleepy. Brian bathed him and changed his diaper and put on his pajamas and laid him down on the bed and read from his favorite book, The House at Pooh Corner, until the baby's eyes closed and his grip on Beh slackened.

Leaving him to sleep, a throw pulled over him, Brian returned to the livingroom and curled up on the sofa while some movie played itself out on the television. He couldn’t say what it was about or who was in it as he didn't pay much attention to it. Instead, he spent most of the remaining forty-five minutes of the film trying to convince himself—unsuccessfully—that Justin's continued absence just meant that he was hard at work, that it didn't mean he was with Xavier, that he had nothing to worry about, that all of that was over and—and—

He sat up and shut off the TV and ran his hands through his hair, covered his face. Then he heard a key in the lock. Quickly, he turned the movie back on and stretched out on the couch.

Justin figured that Gus was probably asleep so he took greater care than usual to close the door as softly as he could. Locked it and set the alarm. Put his stuff by the desk. Saw Brian on the sofa. "Hey."

"Hey. There's take-out in the fridge."

"I grabbed something and took it back to the studio," Justin said.

"Oh." _Alone?_ he wanted to ask. He shut off the film he hadn't been watching anyway for the second time. "Get a lot done?"

"Not enough," admitted Justin. "Gus asleep?"

"Finally. He was a little fussy." Brian looked towards the bedroom. "I think he missed his Pooh."

"Sorry."

Brian shrugged. "Your work comes first."

And even though he was pretty sure Brian hadn't meant anything by it, the words pinched Justin sharply and he winced. "You come first. You and Gus."

"We'll be here when the work is done," Brian assured him.

The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to censor them. "You sure?"

"Where else would I be?" asked Brian, not bringing up the fact that it was Justin and not him who had wandered.

But Justin didn't need reminding, it was in Brian's face, in his eyes whenever he looked at his young lover. The look of betrayal. No matter how hard Brian tried to hide it, it was there, in every glance. Not wanting to see it tonight, Justin headed for the bedroom and stopped. He could feel Brian's eyes on him, wanting him and unable to admit it, unwilling to make even that small a gesture. And he would have gotten angry and stormed out of the room except that he wanted Brian too, had been wanting him all day, and he didn't care anymore, didn't care if he had to beg or plead, whatever it took he was willing to do.

He had looked away, not wanting to see Justin leave the room, wanting to call to him so badly and not doing so. Because of pride, anger, stubbornness, he didn't know, but something kept him from telling Justin that he needed him and the need was overwhelming. Covering his face with his palms, he hoped that it'd go away. And then he felt Justin's hand on his shoulder.

Somehow Justin found himself in Brian's arms, straddling his waist, and trying to catch his breath between kisses while Brian worked at getting inside his clothes. Soon his sweats were down around his knees and Brian's hand was around his cock, stroking him as they kissed. His tongue slipping inside Brian's mouth, he moaned softly while Brian ran his thumb over the head of his dick. Brian spat upon his hand and continued to stroke him, tugging on the stiffening shaft until a bead of precum appeared. He smeared it over the reddened tip. Justin inhaled sharply. Brian spat on his fingers again and then they began to wander, to explore between his thighs, his cheeks. Justin felt the pad of a finger rub over his hole, press against it, slide into it. It was a bit rough, with only spit and his precum to lube the way but he took it. Impaled on Brian's finger, he ground his dick against his lover's belly, leaving glistening trails on his skin. Panting openly but quietly as Brian fingered his ass, Justin swallowed countless cries, his hole clinging moistly to Brian's skin, the slit in his cock gaping open, weeping sticky tears. One hand around his waist, Brian held Justin in place while he shoved his finger in and out of his ass, his own cock hard and growing harder by the moment. Justin clamped his mouth to Brian's and groaned, hoping he didn't wake the baby but it felt so good, Brian's finger all the way up his hole, fucking his ass, making his stomach ripple, making him beg for more, not with words but with the way his hole kept clenching Brian's finger. With one last muffled grunt, Justin came against Brian's abdomen, cum dripping down into the man's pubes.

Cum that lubricated Justin's hand as he stroked Brian's cock. Still perched on his lap, arm thrust between them, fingers tightening around the hard shaft and swollen head. Brian laid his head against the sofa and sighed as Justin worked his dick, hand sliding up and down the length of him, cupping his balls to tease them, to run a finger beneath them, up the center of his sac. His dick was trapped between them, between their hot bellies, sliding in cum and sweat, sliding through Justin's hand. He could feel his balls grow even harder, aching with the need to release. Justin closed his hand around the head of his cock and squeezed it ever so gently and Brian groaned, precum gushing from his hole, moistening his lover's palm. "Justin..." he moaned, not able to keep quiet, certain his balls would explode. He felt as if the skin of his scrotum was two sizes too small to contain the cum bubbling inside. All he wanted to do was to ejaculate, to fill Justin's hand, to wet their bellies again. To let go, to let it go. The muscles in his thighs tensed as his buttocks tightened and he raised his hips up off the sofa, thrusting his meat through the circle Justin had made with his thumb and forefinger. Knowing how close Brian was by the sounds his partner made, the teen jerked and pulled that much faster and harder on Brian's slippery cock until the man shouted and came. 

 

He woke to the sound of moaning, tight, tortured. Turned and saw Brian lying rigid on the bed, tears and moans squeezing past clenched muscles. At any moment he knew Gus would awaken and begin to cry, the baby was already stirring, and Brian, he hoped he could wake him before that happened. Sliding from the bed, Justin went around to the other side and shook the sleeping man. "Brian. Brian, wake up. Wake up," he whispered. Brian's muscles were like iron, it felt like holding onto a metal bar. "Brian." He watched as Brian struggled to escape the dream and fail. A cry burst from his lips and Gus jerked awake, began to fuss.

Brian's eyes flew open. "Gus?"

"I've got him," Justin said and he stood and reached over Brian to pick the baby up. Gus had already begun to whimper. Bouncing him lightly in his arms, Justin kissed him and whispered soothing words to him until the toddler closed his eyes again and laid his head on Pooh's shoulder to sleep. Once he was completely under, Justin carried him around to his side of the bed and put him down again. Brian slipped out. "Where are you going?"

"Livingroom," he mumbled, grabbing a throw from the foot of the bed. But he wouldn’t sleep, not after this. He'd just lie on the sofa and listen to the minutes tick by.

Satisfied that Gus was out for good, Justin made his way over to Brian via the bathroom and the kitchen. Squatted next to him and handed him a bottle of water and two baby blue pills.

"No," Brian began to argue.

"Take 'em. You need to rest." He watched as Brian swallowed the pills and gulped down half the water. "Now, come back to bed."

But Brian shook his head and refused to be swayed.

Looking back from the doorway, Justin saw him stretch out on the couch and close his eyes, pull the throw over him. He watched for a while, then turned away. 

 

Jenn poured two cups of coffee and carried them to the dining table where Justin sat staring at his breakfast as if it were a Surrealist painting. He'd come over to help her rearrange the furniture and to get out of the loft for a while. Brian had been in a pissy mood, brought on by a lack of sleep—having rejected a second night of pill-induced slumber. Which was understandable since he'd spent most of Saturday morning in a haze, recovering from Friday night's dosage. When Saturday night had come, he'd shaken his head and steadfastly refused to take any more of those "goddamn pills." So they'd both awakened at three in the morning, Brian shaking still from the dream. And it had been with regret that Justin had watched him pick up the bottle of Beam. But he'd also been relieved when the alcohol seemed to have done the trick and Brian drifted off again. There'd been no more episodes. But this morning when they'd gotten up, Justin could tell Brian was still groggy and in a bad mood and he had left with something akin to relief. Now, of course, he was just worried.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Everything," he replied. Rubbed his eyes, tired too. "Everybody tried to warn me but I wouldn't listen. And now…now, everything's…" He searched for meaning in the bottom of his coffee cup.

"Everything's what, honey?" she asked although she knew what he meant.

His ring gleamed in the early morning light streaming through the kitchen window. But the shine wasn't as bright as it had been, somehow it'd been tarnished. Despite being platinum, despite the fact that it wasn't supposed to tarnish, it had. Or rather, he had. Brian's golden boy hadn't been good enough. "I came back," he began, "and it's worse than it ever was."

"It takes time."

"For what?" he asked. "For him to decide that he can do without me, that he doesn't need me? That he's better off without me?"

She would have been worried except she'd seen them in court, seen the way the man had reached for the boy for support and she knew that, no matter what, Brian needed Justin. "I don't think he believes that. And neither do you." She smiled softly. "I know I don't."

Before he could answer, Molly ran in. "Hey, Justin," she said, pushing him in his back.

"Hey, brat."

"Where's Brian?"

His little sister had definitely joined the Straight Girls for Brian Kinney Fan Club along with Daphne and Rennie. "Home."

Satisfied that he wasn't there, she ran back upstairs to play. And it made him laugh that she was so obvious in her affections.

"She really likes him," Jenn said, shaking her head.

"Me too." He smiled and began to eat again.

"Then don't give up," she told him and it amazed her that she was sitting in her kitchen telling Justin not to give up on a relationship with a man who, just a little over a year ago, she wouldn't have believed was capable of love. But she'd seen the proof of how much he did love her son. Despite all of the hateful and carelessly cruel things he'd done to Justin early on in their tumultuous relationship, he'd proven his devotion, his commitment to the teenager.

It was easier said than done. _Don't give up_ ; everyone told him that and, yet, no one told him how not to give up, to feel hopeless in the face of so much adversity. Every time he looked at Brian, he could see his mistake reflected in his eyes and it hurt, sometimes so much that he wanted to scream but he couldn’t because the moment he gave into the urge he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop, that he'd become this screaming mouth, continuously vomiting up pain and heartache and hunger and need.

Silence greeted him as he opened the door and he wondered if Brian had gone out after all but when he went into the bedroom to kick off his shoes (a habit he'd picked up from Brian) he found the man asleep. Which worried him. It was after one in the afternoon. Brian should have been up by now and it looked as if he'd never left the bed. Sitting next to him, Justin gently touched his face, hoping to rouse him. Brian's eyelids fluttered and then Justin found himself looking into his beautiful hazel eyes, clouded with sleep but still amazing. "Hey."

"Hey." Brian yawned. "What time is it?"

"After one."

He sat up. "Shit." Worked a kink out of his neck. "You done helping your mom?"

"Until next time." He plucked at the bedspread. "You hungry?"

"Let me shower first. We can go out."

Justin watched him ease from the bed and pad into the bathroom. He seemed a little unsteady on his feet. "You okay?" Justin asked, walking behind him.

Flushing the commode, Brian rolled his shoulders and headed for the shower. "Yeah."

The idea having come to him in an instant, Justin pulled off his clothes and joined Brian just as he was about to turn on the water. At Brian's questioning look, he asked, "Need help?" It was what he'd asked Brian in the hotel room in New York after suggesting he take a shower.

Brian smiled softly, remembering. He didn't think they'd be doing anything but showering this afternoon though. Least not until he got something inside his stomach besides Beam. He had awakened mid-morning, still tired, and had gotten up and done another couple of shots. They'd done the trick but now he felt thick-headed. Not as much as he would have if he'd gone the sleeping pill route but he still wasn't himself. No matter, it had been worth it not to wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, barely having escaped the shadow once more. He shuddered, wondering what would happen if he ever failed to wake before the shadow reached him.

Misinterpreting the cause of his trembling, Justin asked, "You want me to turn the hot water up?"

He shook his head. There wasn't enough hot water in the world to banish the chill inside. 

 

Some asshole was complaining about the quality of the food and Deb told him, "Look, honey, if you want quality, go to Papagano's. You want good company, you come here." She spotted the boys. "Hey!"

Brian slouched in a booth while Justin waved and sat across from him.

"Excuse me," she told the food critic and made her way over to where the guys sat. Gave Brian the once-over and pronounced, "He looks like shit."

"Feels like it too," Justin told her.

"Would you two stop fucking talking about me like I'm not here?" he groused.

"Sounds the same," she said, taking out her pad. "What you having?"

"The least noxious thing on the menu," Brian said without taking his eyes off the tabletop.

Exchanging glances with Justin, Debbie sat next to the teenager. "All right. Talk."

"Maybe I should interpret my order. Fries. I'd like some fries."

"Fuck the fries," Debbie announced. "Spill."

But Brian refused by saying, "That's what I pay Drew for."

"And he's not helping," she pointed out which was unfair because Drew was helping. Drew was the reason he hadn't gone completely out of his mind.

"Maybe," he confessed, suddenly scared by the notion, "maybe no one can."

Hearing the helplessness in his voice, Justin tensed, reached for Brian's hand but stopped mid gesture. With Debbie sitting next to him, he had no avenue of escape and he wanted to run away, to get away from the pain in Brian's voice, in his eyes, in his beautiful eyes. Justin turned his head and waited for the moment to pass, for the urge to cry to dissipate.

"Jesus fucking Christ," brayed Debbie, "what the fuck has happened to you two? You're telling me that after all the shit you've been through, you're gonna let Xavier," Justin flinched when she said his name, "break you up? And he's gone, he's out of your lives."

"Then maybe it isn't him," Brian said, unwilling to name the teen again.

Seizing on the opportunity, Justin asked, "Then what is it?"

But he didn't know. He shook his head.

"Brian?" He couldn't believe it, Brian just wasn't saying but he had to know. He had to.

"I don't." Direct gaze, the hazel eyes troubled. He slid to the end of the booth. "I need some air." And he was gone, striding from the diner unaware of the eyes that followed him with worry, with interest, with regret.

"Sunshine?" Debbie studied the teen, then pulled him to her, hugged him tightly. "It'll work out, you'll see."

"How?" He sniffled, then shaded his eyes because the tears were coming, already spilling over his cheeks.

All around him the men came and went, talking of petty jealousies and minor affairs, brief liaisons, momentary infatuations... and he wanted to yell, "Shut the fuck up!" He didn't want to hear it because their problems were nothing, nothing compared to his loss. He was losing Brian, he could feel it, and no matter how much he fought it, tried to hold onto them with both hands, the man was slipping away from him. And the pain, it was more than he thought he could stand. How many more nights could he watch Brian leave bed, driven away by a dream? How many more times could he leave Drew's office feeling raw and stripped of skin? How many more tears could he shed before the darkness surrounding them overwhelmed him? He felt Deb's hand on his arm and uncovered his face.

"He's coming back in."

"Thanks," he said, wiping away the last of the tears.

She kissed his cheek. "It'll be good again, Sunshine, I promise. He loves you too much to give up on you."

But he had, he wanted to tell her. Brian had given up on them. Taken off his ring and called it quits. _I did that, I made him lose faith in us._

As Brian neared the table, Deb asked, "Drama Queen break over?"

Instead of getting angry, Brian grinned. "Where are my fries?"

Relieved that he seemed to be over whatever had driven him outside, she scooted out of the booth. "Coming right up. Sunshine?"

"A burger?"

"You got it." Leaving them to put in their order, Deb smiled. A burger and fries. Sweet.

Justin sniffed, smelling cigarette smoke. "How many did you have?"

"One."

It was a lie but he decided to accept it anyway.

"You going to the studio?"

"Maybe." Paused. "I don't know what good it's gonna do."

Brian studied the teen's lowered head. Reached over and tousled his hair, making Justin look up at him. "Stop worrying."

But Justin persisted in his negativity. "I feel like I haven't had any time to work."

"You'll have the best piece in the show."

"We can't all be the best," Justin responded angrily because what did Brian know about not being perfect, not being the best, not always getting what he wanted? And then it hit him. He knew a lot about it. He and Cam had taught Brian all about coming in last place.

Softly, Brian said, "I remember this competition I entered right after Cam and I broke up. I slaved away on that damn ad for weeks and it was still a piece of shit. It's like every time I tried to work on it, all this other crap kept crowding in my head and I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn't focus on what I was doing."

Wearily, Justin said, "Don't tell me. You won."

"No, I came in dead last cause it was a piece of shit ad," laughed Brian. "But I'm still here and I'm still in advertising and I'm pretty damn good if you ask me. If you ask anybody. So fuck it. It's one show. You can't always be the best." I know. 

 

As Brian pulled up to the Institute, Justin asked, "You coming in?"

Brian shook his head. It was still too soon. "When do you want me to pick you up?"

"Two hours. Any more and I'll lose my fucking mind." He leaned over and kissed his lover goodbye. "Later."

"Later."

Justin noted the fact that Brian hadn't called him baby. Hadn't called him that in a long time. Climbing down from the Jeep, he closed the door and watched Brian pull away, probably headed for Lindsay's place or to see Michael. He made his way into the building and hoped like hell Xavier wasn't around.

For once he'd gotten lucky, neither Xavier nor Rennie appeared to be in although he wouldn't have minded seeing Rennie. She had a way of cutting through the bullshit and cracking him up even if it came at his expense. He needed a laugh today. Maybe he should have gone with Brian, gone to see Gus except that they'd just seen him Friday and Saturday and also Lindsay hadn't quite gotten over what he'd done to Brian even though she'd admitted that Brian had contributed to their problems as well and she knew that Justin's heart had been breaking too.

What had he been thinking? He knew what he had thought, that somehow they would make it, the three of them, he'd really believed it. Well, he'd really wanted it to work out and when it hadn't, he knew he should have just given up Xavier and begun working to patch things up with Brian but he'd been scared, terrified of what Brian would do, say. He'd been afraid of losing them both even though he'd known that, in the end, he would never have given up Brian for Xavier, he'd always known that. It was just that abandoning Xavier had hurt too.

So here he was, alone in his studio, staring at his horrific drawings wondering if they were even worth working on, wanting to be with Brian so badly it hurt—but not the way they were now, he wanted to be with him the way they used to be. When they'd make love and laugh in bed and talk to one another. Now, now they avoided really talking because of the risk of bringing up something hurtful, something hard to talk about. And although the sex was still good, some of the intimacy had been lost and they both felt it keenly. Now they made love desperately, grasping after a closeness that continued to elude them.

Taking another look at his sketches, Justin debated destroying them and starting over again. But there was no time. The show was in three days. No way could he come up with something new in two. Best thing to do was to start matting the pieces he had and to let it go, stop thinking about it. Brian would be back in little over an hour. 

 

He hadn't gone to Mikey's or Lindz's place or any of his other familiar haunts. Instead, he'd gone to the one place no one would have predicted: Joanie's. He'd gone home. Although he no longer considered it home consciously, every now and again he got the urge to return there. _Like lemmings to the sea,_ he told himself as he walked up the drive. A flash of curtain told him that she'd seen him; and he knew that she was probably touching her hair, smoothing her clothes, fiddling with the knick-knacks on the coffee table, things she did whenever company was due to arrive. Pausing for a moment, he knocked, waited a second, then pushed open the door. She would have unlocked it when she saw him coming.

"Surprised to see you," Joanie said, standing awkwardly, not sure if she should come forward and hug him or remain where she was and let him make the first move.

He dawdled by the door. "Yeah. It's been a while." Then he moved towards her and leaned over, bussed her cheek shyly.

She smiled and touched his face briefly before he pulled away. For all of his swagger, he was still skittish and she wondered how he could be after having been touched by so many people. A holdover from when he was a little boy she supposed. Constantly on the verge of fleeing. He'd perch in chairs, sway from foot to foot, watch what was going on around him out of the corner of his eye, careful not to be caught unawares. And yet he had been. Justin had caught him unawares. Amazed all over again, she glanced at the wedding band—commitment band—around his finger. Although she'd always imagined him with a family of his own, she could have never imagined that his family would end up including him and his lover and his son and his son's two mothers. Smiling again, she asked, "Where's Justin?"

"Studio. Working on a project. There's an art show at the school this week. You should come," he told her. "Wednesday. Around seven."

"Maybe," she replied, promising nothing. Something she'd picked up from Jack Kinney, same as he had. In fact, Brian had picked up a lot from Jack. He looked like his father, not as stocky but he'd inherited his height and Jack's nose, Jack's hair color when he was young. The eyes were a throwback to her side of the family as were the rounded cheeks, red lips, and slender fingers. But somehow, even though she could attribute for most of his features individually, as a whole his beauty had always baffled her. And, truthfully, bothered her even as she'd been proud of it. His beauty. That would have been more useful to Claire. Poor, plain Claire. But she supposed men had their need of beauty as well. And he'd made use of his. Only now, he looked a little pale and listless. "Is something wrong?"

Sitting on the edge of the couch, he studied the cut glass figurines before him on the table. Remembered being just a little boy, a baby really, and hearing Joanie call out to him to leave them alone. Don't break them. Look but don't touch. "How'd you do it?" he asked. "When Pop started fooling around, why'd you take it? Why didn't you kick him out?"

"Because we were married. And back then, marriage meant something."

"It didn't mean enough for him to keep his vows."

"It meant something to me."

"Were you ever tempted to…? You know?"

"No." And her answer left no room for reinterpretation. "Are you and Justin having problems?"

"You could say that."

"You've been seeing other people?"

He laughed. Shook his head.

"Justin?"

"Fell in love with someone else." Fuck, I wish it was that simple. But he couldn't even begin to imagine telling her the whole truth. It even amazed him sometimes, what they'd done, the stupidity of it all.

"Brian…"

She genuinely seemed worried for him. "But it's over now," he assured her. "Only…"

"It isn't." Because it never is. No matter how many times you supposedly forgive him or tell yourself you don't care, you do.

"No."

"You still love him, don't you?" she asked although she hadn't needed to, she could see it in his eyes that he loved Justin, probably always would.

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

Always the same question and he never had an answer for it, was never able to completely explain just what was wrong, how he felt, how scared he was, and how incredibly saddened he was by all of it. "I don’t know."

Reaching across the table, she laid her hand upon his. In all the years that Jack had cheated on her, she'd never understood it, never made peace with it. Now he was gone, yet the feelings still remained: the anger and the disappointment. Didn't seem fair somehow. "I'm sorry. I don't have any answers." Never had.

"Neither do I," he confessed.

Joanie stood as if the solution had suddenly come to her. "I do have cookies."

Laughing, he followed her into the kitchen. 

 

Chocolate chip macademia nut cookies in his belly and more in a Ziploc bag, Brian waited for Justin to emerge from the entranceway to the Institute. Soon, as if on cue, the teen appeared and sauntered over to the Jeep, running a couple of steps at the end. "Hey," he said as he got in.

"Hey yourself." Brian took off at his usual breakneck speed. "Get any work done?"

"I decided to take your advice and stop worrying about it." _The way I've stopped worrying about you getting a speeding ticket._

"Haven't I told you I'm a genius?" He came to a screeching halt at the light.

With a sideways glance, Justin replied, "I'm still waiting for proof." Giggled as Brian punched him lightly in the shoulder.

As if they'd been energized by their brief time apart, they laughed all the way home at various and sundry silly things that occurred to them or that they observed on the streets during their journey. By the time they'd taken the elevator to the top floor, they were hungrily kissing one another the way they used to.

Justin grinned and pulled off his jersey. Tossed it aside. Slowly opened his zipper. By the time it reached the end of its track, Brian was there slipping his hand inside.

"Baby…"

 _Baby…_ "Yeah…"

They made love right there on the floor, on their hands and knees, yowling like cats in heat, the hair standing up on the back of Brian's neck as Justin moaned. Satisfied for the moment, they stumbled into the bedroom to rest, drawing energy from their closeness, in preparation for the next go round.

Justin lazed on Brian's chest, stroking the man's belly gently, hand sliding down into his pubes, sleepily tugging on them until his fingers came to rest on his cock and stopped. He drowsed…

And woke to the sound of Brian stirring in bed. Not moaning, not struggling against an involuntary silence, just turning over. And the relief he felt was so great that he nearly started laughing. 

Before he had really prepared himself mentally, Wednesday came. And with it the show. At the last minute he almost called his friends and family and asked them not to come. But he knew his mom and Debbie and Lindz and Em would come whether he wanted them to or not. Brian too. So he told himself that it'd be over in a couple of hours and he could go home and lick his wounds and maybe Brian would take pity on him and kiss them and make them all better.

As he always did whenever they were going out, Brian checked Justin's outfit and shook his head. "Artists," he muttered as if that explained everything. Lindsay dressed the same way, as if she used up all her creativity on the canvas. Oh well, he considered himself his canvas and worked hard to impress. _"I am my own masterpiece,"_ he was wont to say.

"Fortunately," Justin told him, "not everyone cares about clothes as much as you do."

"Not clothes. Image." Gesturing at himself, he said, "Mine says I'm successful and have good taste," and indeed it did. The tailored grey linen pants and black silk shirt that must have cost at least a couple hundred dollars fit him perfectly and presented a picture of somber elegance and grace.

"Well, mine says I make two hundred dollars a week," Justin retorted.

"I would buy you--"

"No. You do enough for me as is."

"We're partners," Brian pointed out quite reasonably.

"Right. So what does it matter what I wear?" Justin added equally reasonably.

And Brian wrapped his arms around him. "It doesn't. I just like it when you look nice."

Justin kissed him. "You like it when I'm naked."

"That too."

They kissed again, easy with one another like they hadn't been for a long time and Justin wondered how long that easiness would last once they got to the exhibition. Xavier would be there and he and Brian hadn't spoken since Brian went to his studio and handed Justin over to him. Plus there was the matter of the art itself. Justin had no idea how Brian would react once he saw the pieces Justin had submitted. He hoped they could make it through this evening without any problems but he wasn't willing to bet money on it. Or his future. To distract his thoughts, he asked, "They bringing Gus?" He'd been at the 9/11 memorial show.

"Lindz said he's been grouchy this week so they're leaving him with my mom."

"I was kinda hoping she'd come tonight."

"Joanie's not big on modern art or postmodern art or art in general. Unless it's a crucifix. And I don't mean one submerged in piss either," he said, referring to the notorious Piss Christ that had landed its creator and the NEA in hot water with Congress.

Justin scrunched up his face. "Brian."

"What?" He kissed the teen again, amused, and tugged on his shirt. "Come on. We'll be late."

"I thought you liked making grand entrances." 

 

He saw them from across the room as they entered the exhibition space, no few heads turning as they walked in, no few eyes on them both, cosmopolitan beauty paired with youthful enthusiasm, two for the price of one couple. He could hear the sound Justin would make as he slipped a hand under the waistband of his pants, imagine the feel of Brian's skin as he slid his shirt off his shoulders... He wanted to tell the hungry eyes that followed the men that it wasn't worth it because no matter how far either of them strayed, they'd always end up together. Wasn't that what he had learned the hard way?

The moment they walked inside, he felt Xavier watching them but he refused to look for him figuring they'd run into one another sooner or later. He did wonder if Nana Rose was around, if she'd made it up from D.C. He'd love to see her.

There were the guys: Mikey, Jeff, Emmett, and Ted. He didn't see Lindz and Mel but had no doubt they'd be there. Deb and Vic too. He and Justin sauntered over to them.

"When's class start?" Em asked, gazing at the art around him. "I need some serious instruction."

"Where's your stuff?" asked Jeff. "And can I get an interview with the artist?"

"It's in the back," Justin replied, "but wait until later to see it." He sighed. "It's not very good. In fact, it kinda sucks."

Mikey frowned. "I don't believe that. Besides, why would they let you show it if it was that bad?"

"It's a student show. They have to take whatever you have," Justin explained.

"Well, who cares?" Brian asked. "You're in school to learn not because you're already Pablo fucking Picasso."

"I agree," said Jeff. Pulled on Michael's arm. "Let's go mingle."

"I'd like to mingle with him," Em said, pointing to an instructor who was not, thankfully, Trevor. Brian didn't want to face him just right now.

As the guys paired off and left them, Justin turned to Brian. "Don't look at it yet, okay?"

"Fine. But I came to see your stuff. I could care less about the rest of this sh-- Hey, Rennie." He leaned over and gave her a big one right on the lips almost sending her into a swoon.

"Hey... Brian," she replied once she got her breath back. "Hey, Boy Wonder."

"Your parents come?" Justin asked.

"They are so lame. All that fuckin' money and they can't find time to come and see my work. Fuck 'em."

"I love this girl," Brian grinned, and took her arm. "Lead the way, mademoiselle."

And tittering in a way very unbecoming for a member of the Feminist Art Club, Rennie showed him her pieces, leaving Justin to either follow or not.

Deciding he'd give her a few minutes alone with her scope, Justin glanced around and saw Mel and Lindsay enter. They made a beeline for him. Kissed him soundly.

"Hey, baby," said Mel. "Where's the asshole?"

Justin laughed. Brian had gotten so used to her calling him that that he didn't seem to mind anymore. "With Rennie. The guys are here but I haven't seen my mom and Molly or Deb and Vic."

"They'll be here," Lindsay assured him. "Where are your drawings?"

"Way in the back where they belong. Shit, I wish I'd never come."

At a signal from Lindsay, Mel went to snag them a couple glasses of punch. "So," she said once they were alone, "what's wrong?"

He shrugged. "I'm stuck in this strange place artistically and I don't know how to get out; and the pictures I did for the show..." he shook his head, "I can't explain them but it's how I felt. And it scares me."

"Then you have to go with it until you're in a different place. Think of it as your blue period."

He smiled as she'd intended. "Yeah, I guess." 

 

Wandering among the other students' work, he heard a familiar voice, turned with a smile brightening his face. "Nana Rose!"

"Justin," she called and held out her arms.

He went to her, as if she'd been his grandmother, and hugged her. In actuality, he just held on, let her squeeze him, and took comfort from her presence, from the quiet strength in her arms.

"I'm so glad to see you," he whispered. Just smelling her perfume made him think about the three of them dancing in her livingroom, how happy they'd all been. Only now it also made him feel a little guilty.

With a peck on his cheek, she let go of him. Studied his face. "Look at you. Just as cute as ever. How you doing, baby?"

"Okay," but he didn't believe it and he knew she wouldn't either.

"Now how about you try that again?"

He gave a tiny shake of his head. "I'm sorry," he told her.

"For what?"

"For what happened… with Xavier." She had every right to be angry because she'd warned them, had told them to be careful and they hadn't been.

"Xavier is going to be fine. When the time is right, he'll find someone to love, someone who'll love him."

"I did love him."

"I know you did, baby." Rose patted his face. Poor baby, she hadn't envied him, caught in the middle, wanting to do what was right for all of them and not being able to.

"I just—I couldn't leave Brian. Maybe if things had been different…"

"But they weren't. You did what was right for you. That's all you can do. Who knows, maybe in some parallel universe, you and Xavier get together. Or maybe in every single one of those other universes, you and Brian get together. Maybe you were meant to be together. Maybe that's where you've always belonged." She laughed. "You can tell I've been reading too much science fiction. But you never know. I don't claim to see everything and of the things I do see, I don't claim to understand all of them. I just do the best I can." Craning her neck, she asked, "Now, where is he? I want to see if he's as fiiine in person as he is in that picture you showed me."

"He hasn't been sleeping too well lately..."

"What? That's your excuse for letting me down?"

Taking the challenge, he looked around for Brian. Spotted him. Pointed. "There he is."

Rose looked where he indicated. Saw a tall, slender man in black and grey, moving through the crowd with ease, people stepping aside as he passed, many looking after him with undisguised interest, him seemingly oblivious to it all. "My God… That man is beautiful. Sleep or no sleep."

"He'll do," Justin teased. "Just don't tell him you think he's cute."

"Cute? He's gorgeous."

"And don't tell him that. His head is big enough as is."

"Everybody needs a little stroking every now and then," she said and when Justin blushed she laughed. "But I bet you've got that under control."

"Nana Rose!"

"Now," she announced, "I'm going to look at some art and get a little cul-ture." She kissed him again. "I'll see you later."

"How long are you staying in town?"

"Just long enough for Xavier to pack his stuff for the summer."

"Will I see you again?"

"Count on it, baby." She paused. "Do me a favor."

"What?"

"Talk to him. He misses you."

Justin waved as she made her way across the room and went in search of Xavier. 

 

He'd seen Justin talking to the woman and assumed that she was Xavier's grandmother. She looked like Xavier. Same facial structure and slender height. But whereas Xavier's beauty was angular, all sharp corners and edges, hers was tempered, rounded, comforting. He'd glimpsed the teenager mulling around the exhibition but hadn't spoken to him not even to tell him how much he liked his pieces. They were good. Good enough for Kenneth's corporate headquarters. He hoped Xavier remembered to send Harris his portfolio. Maybe he'd tell Justin to remind him. Lost in a thought, he didn't see her until she was right by his side. He looked down and met a pair of questing brown eyes. It felt as if she were looking into the very depths of him. Unusual for him, he broke contact first.

"You know who I am?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am?" A twinkle appeared in her eye. "Call me Rose."

"Brian."

For a moment they stood silently, the man in black and grey, the woman in bright, vibrant colors, a strange pair to be sure.

"Justin loves you a great deal," she said finally.

"I know." It was the only thing he did know sometimes.

"And yet you're standing over here alone like you don't have a friend in the world."

It was true, he had been. Had been feeling that way too, as if he didn't belong. And that was another sign that things had changed because he hadn't felt that way during the 9/11 show, then he'd felt as if his whole family was around him, as if he were safe. Now, he just felt scared as if he were losing everything that ever mattered to him. He glanced at her, dismayed that a stranger was able to pick up that much about him just from the way he stood. Twice he started to say something in response, to deny her words but he couldn't.

So she spoke. "It's hard, loving someone enough to let them make their own mistakes. Even if it means hurting yourself. I watched Xavier's mama go out into the world and I knew that girl was gone do wrong... something in her eyes, too trusting. And she didn't disappoint me. Sometimes I wanted to lock her up somewhere just to keep her safe but I couldn't."

Softly, Brian said, "I should have told him no. I should have made him stay home, never let him go after Xavier."

"How were you gone stop him?" Amused, she awaited his answer.

"I don't know. I just should have. Anything would have been better than this."

"Him hating you because you didn't trust him? Because you kept him from doing something he felt he had to do?"

"Everything's all wrong now."

"It won't always be."

"I don't know that," he said, desperation giving an edge to his voice. Swallowed. "Anyway, why do you care? We hurt your grandson too."

"He'll live. And, hopefully, he'll be smarter next time. Lord have mercy, did you really think it would work out?"

"No. But I couldn’t stop him from doing that either." 

 

Sidling up to Xavier, Justin glanced at the sculpture his friend was studying. It was good. Not as good as Xavier's stuff but it was good. He could see the wheels turning in Xavier's mind, dissecting the piece, reconstructing the process by which it'd been built. Finally, when it seemed as if Xavier had come to a stopping point, he disturbed the quiet. "Hey."

"Hey. You see Nana?"

"Yeah."

"She was dying to get up with you."

"I missed her." Missed you too. "How have you been?"

"Good. You?"

"Okay. I guess."

Xavier smiled. "You lying as much as I am." They both laughed, caught out. "I saw your stuff."

"I know, they're for shit." Justin tensed, waiting for Xavier's pronouncement. The one thing they didn't bullshit one another about was art.

"They're harsh. But they're real. They're the best things here."

Mouth open in amazement, Justin was stunned into silence. Then he asked, "How can you say that?"

"You can feel the pain. Yours and his." He looked away from his friend. "What did Brian say?"

"He hasn't seen them yet."

"Then he doesn't know."

"No."

Xavier wanted to touch him, to reassure him, but he couldn't. He could never touch him again. Never hear him catch his breath as he came, knowing he'd done it, he'd caused him to feel that kind of pleasure. They'd never again be lovers but he could be his friend, talk to him. "You two okay?"

Honestly, Justin answered, "No."

"I'm sorry. I mean it."

"I ruined everything."

"He'll get over it. He's pretty strong. It took a lot for him to give you up but he did it, so he can do this too." _I remember looking into his eyes, he was so lost I'm surprised he made it back home._

"I don't know if he wants me anymore," Justin confessed.

"He loves you." _Your coming home and telling him it was over between us was more than he had hoped for and all he'd ever wanted._

"But I don't know if he wants me. Why should he? All I've done is hurt him."

"And loved him, been there for him, taken care of him, supported him." He couldn't believe that he was standing there, defending Justin's relationship with Brian. "He'll come around."

"I don't know what I'd do without him, Xavier."

"I'm always here." The words were out before he could really think about the implications.

"Xavier..." He didn't want to hurt him but there could be no misunderstandings.

"I know." Xavier smiled softly. "I'll talk to you later."

As he started to walk away, Justin said quietly, "I miss dancing with you."

Xavier said nothing, just smiled again and left.

He took a deep breath. Time to go find Brian. 

 

Spotting Trevor off by himself, Brian decided to kill some time. "So how's the statue coming along?"

"It's coming." Trevor glanced sidelong at him. Still beautiful. Still the most desirable man he'd ever met. Ever fucked. "Did you tell him?"

"Yeah, cause I haven't been kicked in the nuts enough recently." _Shit. Not him too._

"I'll take that as a no. So much for honesty."

Brian was genuinely confused. "Is that what you want? For me to tell him so that what happens? So that he'll get pissed off and cop an attitude with you? What?"

"So we just forget what happened?"

"I have."

Trevor moved closer. "I don't think so."

He almost laughed but he knew that would be the wrong thing to do at that moment. "It was just a fuck. Just like all the others."

"But you can't tell him about it."

"I won't tell him. I'm not gonna screw things up even more than they already are over a meaningless fuck."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you begged me to stay."

"We both understood what was going on and if you want to turn it into something it wasn't, that's your fuckin problem but don't blame me. I never lied to you about what it meant." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Justin coming. Jesus... What incredible fucking horrific timing. And Trevor looked like he was about two seconds away from announcing to the world that they'd fucked.

Taking Brian's arm, Justin spoke to Trevor. "Hey, Professor Janson."

"Justin."

The teen looked up at his lover, a crease appearing between his brows. He knew something was wrong. Brian wanted to look away but if he did, Justin would never let up until he spilled it. So he maintained eye contact and asked in a pseudo-annoyed tone of voice, "Is it okay if I see your drawings now?" Anything to distract him and to get away from Trevor.

"Come on."

With each footstep Brian expected Trevor to call out to them but he didn't. Breathing a sigh of relief, Brian followed Justin to the back of the space where a small number of people had gathered.

Fuck, thought Justin. He was hoping they'd be alone, that Brian would have a chance to see the drawings without an audience. And he was surprised. That anyone would bother to look twice at the pictures. Maybe Xavier was right and they were good. Maybe he'd just lost his perspective on things because of the subject matter. The one good thing about the crowd was that it kept the artwork from view that much longer. And then the people began to disperse.

"I don't see what the big, fuckin' deal is about. Those people--"

Brian stopped and Justin felt him tense up. "Brian?"

It was them. Completely unrecognizable unless you knew them, knew what they'd been through. A triptych of grotesque figures connected in horror. On the first panel, two figures in a bed, one of them burrowing through the other's body, stretching it beyond tolerance, having entered by way of its anus and making its way to its chest and, presumably, its heart.

On the second panel, again two figures, this time putting their heart and lungs, their livers and kidneys into jars, having opened themselves up, in preparation for an embalming, to be entombed, sans organs, while still alive.

And the last panel, the lovers, for that was what they were, sitting calmly by the sea, their backs to the water, a shapeless shadow emerging from the depths.

Next to the three drawings, a placard said, "Love in Three Parts".

Brian swayed a little, steadied himself. "It's us."

"Brian..."

"We..." He looked away.

"Brian, I'm sorry--"

"Look at us." He pointed to the pictures. "Look at us!" Backed away. "Fuck."

Justin called after him but it was too late. He was gone.

Having heard his voice and seen Brian leave, Jennifer came hurrying from around a partition. "Honey?"

"I gotta go after him."

"Maybe you should let him go. Let him calm down."

"He won't. Not without me."

"Justin--"

"Mom, I know what I'm doing." Brian having had a head start, Justin exited the building. He was nowhere in sight. Hoping that he hadn't gone to the Jeep, Justin checked the parking lot first but the car was still there. Then he tried to think of all the places Brian might have gone to and could have gotten to in a relatively short period of time. The other buildings were open but Brian had never been in them. He'd probably stay outside. The courtyard. It was enclosed yet accessible. Please, let him be there.

He found him seated on a bench, having a cigarette. Everything would have been normal if Brian's hand hadn't been shaking and if half the cigarette hadn't turned to ash, unsmoked. The ash fell, a tremor having passed through Brian's hand. Justin sat next to him, not too close. Waited for Brian to speak and when he didn't, took a chance. "Come back inside."

"I feel like we're trapped in a nightmare that just keeps getting darker. I don't know which is worse, this or that fucking dream I keep having but I know that... I know that I can't keep doing this. We can't keep going on like this."

"Tell me how to fix things and I'll do it."

"Is that really how you feel about us?" he asked, jabbing his cigarette in the air, in the direction of the exhibition.

He was talking about the drawings. "I don't know."

"Cause we're in deep shit trouble if it is."

"Maybe," Justin admitted.

Brian stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette, wishing he'd brought a joint with him. "Shit."

"Let's go away." The idea had come out of nowhere to him and he grabbed hold of it as if it were the only life jacket in a hundred miles of sea. "Just for the weekend. We could go to that inn we went to last year. For our anniversary."

"You really think that's a good idea? The way things are?" He could see them killing each other in the woods and no one finding their bodies for days, the animals having gotten to them and eaten away their flesh.

"It's what we need. Time alone. To talk. No distractions. Just us. What do you think?"

Maybe it was what they needed, to get away from familiar surroundings so they could stop running into the shades of past mistakes, to go to a place that had good associations, where they'd been close and there'd only been the two of them in their bed. So he gave Justin a fake scowl and said, "I think I'd better wear my old shoes this time. Last trip I got racoon shit all over my Miu Mius," he complained.

"Only you would wear brand new Prada tennis shoes to the country."

"I guess I'll wear my Chuck Taylor's instead."

"You don't have any Chuck Taylor's."

"Really? Duh." Sometimes Justin was a little slow.

"Fuck off."

Brian moved closer to him and slid his arm around Justin's waist; the teen leaned against him. 

 

True to her word, Nana Rose called Justin and invited him to take her to lunch. So he went by her hotel and she and he taxied to Liberty Avenue and got out in front of the diner. They'd all thought it was best if Xavier and Brian didn't come, which saddened all of them (for different reasons) but it had to be that way, there was no point in muddying the waters again.

"Hey, Sunshine!" Deb called out to him. She and Vic hadn't made it to the show, Vic had been feeling a little under the weather but he was better now.

"Sunshine?" Rose asked. "Fits. Or it would, if you'd smile." At that, he did smile. "Cute as can be."

"Hi. I'm Debbie Novotny."

"Rose Robinson. Xavier's grandmother."

"He looks like you. You two want a booth?"

"Thanks."

Throughout the introductions Justin had said nothing. It was only as they opened their menus that he spoke. "I lived with Debbie after I left home. And after Brian kicked me out of his place."

Rose laughed. "That sounds like a story I want to hear."

"It's a good one," Deb told her as she set down two glasses of water.

When she'd gone again to wait on another table, Justin said, "Brian took me in cause my dad was being a real a—" He stopped.

"A real asshole?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "Anyway, I forgot to set the alarm one day and Brian got robbed. He totally freaked."

"Doesn't seem like the type at all," Nana Rose joked.

"So I stole one of his credit cards and ran away to New York."

"Lord have mercy. By yourself?"

"Yep."

"To do what?"

"Become a go-go boy."

"Well, you sure can work those hips," she laughed.

"Or wait for Brian to come find me, whichever came first."

"And did he?"

"He brought me home and asked Deb if I could live with her."

"They must be very close."

"Her son, Michael, is his best friend and Brian practically lived at their house when he was a teenager. His dad was pretty harsh. He used to hit Brian, and nothing Brian ever did was good enough for him."

"Explains a lot."

"He's been through so much." Justin looked down at his hands.

"So have you," said Deb, having returned to take their orders. "You both deserve a break. Now, what can I get you?" 

 

Lunch over, they strolled down the avenue window shopping, Rose haggling with a street vendor over the price of a scarf with which she promptly tied her dreads. Justin told her she looked beautiful. And she did.

They took a cab back to the hotel where Justin hugged her and kissed her and promised he'd call her. As the cab drove him away, he wiped his eyes, amazed at how close he felt to her. No matter how fucked up things had gotten, the one thing he'd never regret was meeting Nana Rose. 

 

The two lovers left for the country right after work, having packed the night before, and arrived at the inn in just over an hour and a half. It had still been light enough for them to take in the scenery, which they had, more to keep from talking than anything else, which was ironic considering why they'd come to the country in the first place.

Their old cabin wasn't available but there was one "just as nice" the proprietor assured them besides which it was a little further out which meant they'd be certain not to be disturbed by the other guests.

With food on its way, they tossed their bags on the floor and stretched out on the bed to catch their breath. Eyed the whirlpool bath gratefully. After dinner, it was a date. Finally, the bellboy arrived with their meal and set it up on the dining table, complete with candles and fine china.

His appetite an uncertain thing under the best of circumstances, Brian stared down at his plate, hunger having fled but since Justin had already begun to eat his serving of walnut and pancetta pansoli, he decided he'd better try to get something down or his lover would worry. So he speared a couple of the asparagus tips that came with the ravioli and hoped the taste would trigger his errant appetite.

"Mmm," Justin muttered before getting up and going to his bag. Took out a CD and popped it into the player by the bed. Returned to the table.

Brian listened to the CD, trying to dredge up a name from his memory. He recognized the voice if not the song and had in his mind the vague image of a black man, tall, dark, beautiful. But the name… "Who is this?"

"Seal."

He nodded. Did remember him. Had seen the CDs on the storage rack, some of Justin's contributions to the collection. But he'd remembered then, the song with the video of Seal dancing alone and singing. Not the one from that lame-assed Batman Forever movie but the one about dying. "A Prayer for the Dying," that's what it was called. He liked him. Smiling, he continued to eat.

"He's pretty hot," Justin said, knowing how his man's mind worked.

"Yeah," was all he'd say. Thinking about Seal made him think about Trevor. The fact that the singer looked like he'd been carved from ebony. He could see Trevor releasing him from stone, his strong, capable hands roaming over that perfect body…

"Brian?"

"Hmm?"

"Gerbil's working overtime."

Justin's invitation to talk. He almost laughed but it wouldn't be funny, the teen's reaction if he told him about his encounter with Trevor. And he should. He knew that he should just tell him and get it over with except… he couldn't. _But what if Trevor tells him?_ But why would Trevor do that? What good would it do? So he lied. "This is nice."

"The CD? I made it from the three albums I have—"

"No. This. All of it. You were right," he said, taking a sip of the perfectly chilled Chardonnay. "We needed this." And Justin smiled, really smiled, the first one in so long it made him turn away when he realized how much he'd missed it.

"Brian?" A hint of worry.

He looked back up and smiled. Took Justin's hand and held it, fingers brushing over his ring. 

 

 _You know I didn't mean to hurt you love/ I just need some light on my life/ But when a man is wrong/ Facing all the mistakes that he's done/ There can be no right_ … 2

They danced after dinner, taking comfort from being together, from being alone, from being free, for a moment, from the worries that seemed as much a part of them as their flesh and blood. Paradoxically, despite the words of the song, they hoped that they could find forgiveness, redemption even.

_Oh, my friend/ I sometimes get things wrong to get things right/ Oh, my friend/ You know I sometimes get things wrong to get things right/ Oh, my friend/ When I'm wrong/ Facing all the mistakes that I've done/ When a man/ When this man is wrong/ There can be no right/ There can be no right._

Brian's arm tight around his waist, Justin gave himself over to the need coursing through his veins. Pulling Brian's head down to kiss him again and again, not wanting to part, not even to draw breath. The hunger, God, ravenous for one another, wanting to devour, to consume. He bit Brian's lip and heard his lover cry out, not in pain but in lust, wanting Justin to eat him, to feed on him. "Baby…"

"Yes." Justin pulled away slightly, eyes shining, then kissed him hard, mouths mashed together. He gasped and grabbed the back of Brian's head, held him still as he chewed on his lips, sucked his tongue.

With a moan, they parted again, faces flushed. Brian could feel his cock pressing against his fly. Watched as Justin stripped down to his briefs, white like a little boy's. His little boy.

Eyes fixed on his partner, Justin walked over to the whirlpool and stepped inside. Dropped beneath the surface, then resurfaced, hair plastered to his forehead. He sat on the edge of the bath, legs open in invitation, briefs translucent, clinging to his buttocks, his cock and balls clearly visible, clearly defined against the wet cloth, a shadow where his hole was.

In a rush, Brian plunged into the water, fully clothes except for his socks and shoes which he'd abandoned when they'd first arrived. Body between Justin's thighs, he grabbed hold of the teen's neck as they kissed once more, trying to ignore the tightness at his groin. In a less than smooth motion, he had his jeans unbuttoned providing some relief but he didn't care because Justin's tongue was in his mouth and, somehow, of its own volition, his hand had cupped the teenager's dick and was busy stroking it through the soaking wet material of the cotton briefs. Without breaking contact, Brian rose from the water. They fell back upon the floor, Justin's legs wrapped around his thighs, groins ground together, cocks straining against confining cloth as they continued to gnaw on one another's mouth.

Somehow Justin came to be on top and he sat up, suspending their kissing and placed his hands on Brian's still-covered chest. Rubbed the silk cloth over the man's super sensitive nipples. Brian sighed as they stiffened. Justin tore open his shirt and latched onto the nubs, one and then the other trapped inside his mouth, tongue lashing the tips. Brian lifted his torso, trying to push them inside even further but Justin pulled away. Turned to the man's lower half instead. Tugged Brian's wet jeans down and off, leaving his thong in place, irregardless of how little it was actually doing to keep his cock confined or even covered. The head and an inch or more of the shaft had escaped the cup and peeked over the waistband.

"Oh, baby…" he whispered as Justin licked his cock, just the part that had poked free. Each lap of the boy's tongue sent shivers down his spine and he wished all of his cock had come free because his balls were aching for the touch of his baby's tongue. As if he had heard Brian's thoughts, Justin eased the thong down around his thighs and had Brian in his mouth in an instant. The teen's lips slid down his shaft and Brian closed his eyes and concentrated on not coming. Because it was hard. With any other partner he'd have been able to disconnect himself from what was happening, isolate his arousal someplace other than his cock, but with Justin it took all of his willpower and skill not to come the moment he started to go down on him. Those thick lips were almost impossible to resist. He moaned and lifted a hand, let it fall back into the pool of water beneath his palm. Raised his knees, then lowered them again, feet sliding across the slick tiled floor. Jesus…

He released Brian's cock from his mouth and opened his lips around his sac. Sucked the smooth flesh while continuing to stroke the man's dick. His fingers were wet with precum. He could hear Brian moaning and it made him harder, made him hungrier for his meat. Despite his desire, Justin was gentle with Brian; knowing how sensitive his balls were, he lightly nipped them, opening his mouth around the fat orbs and only letting his teeth graze the surface, and even that was enough to set Brian off. He shuddered and grunted, buttocks tightened. As soon as he relaxed, Justin did it again and Brian gave a little cry and begged him to stop. "No, oh God, no… I’m gonna…" Again Justin nipped him. But this time Justin had placed a hand behind Brian's nuts and pressed down on the spot right above his prostate. Hand in place, he took Brian's cock back inside and sucked him hard, willing the man to come with his lips and tongue. Brian jerked beneath him and shouted, gripped by his orgasm. But he did not come. Justin pressed harder with his knuckles until Brian had settled down. When he judged it safe to release him, he did. The man lay on the floor, chest heaving, utterly undone. His limbs trembled as Justin lay against him, too weak to even hold him.

While Brian recovered, Justin began to kiss him once more, his own hard-on tight against Brian's side, caught between their bodies. He wanted to come so badly but he wanted to wait, to wait until Brian was hard inside him, until he was on his back yelling for Brian to fuck him harder. He drew away, feeling a pulse go through his dick. But first, before Brian fucked him, he wanted him to eat him out. Stepping back into the whirlpool, he soaked himself again, then got out and laid down on the fake bearskin rug before the cold fireplace. It was too hot for a fire but the rug would do just fine. Lying on his back, he waited for Brian to turn over and look at him.

Breathing a little steadier, Brian got on his hands and knees and faced Justin. The teen was on his back, body glistening once more, briefs plastered to him. His cock was so hard Brian was surprised it hadn't torn a hole through his underwear. As is, it tented them. And his balls, round and high… Brian longed to lick them, suck them. But he waited to take his cue from Justin.

Brian's attention focused on him, Justin turned over onto his side and gripped the waistband of his briefs in one hand. Slowly drew them down.

Fuck. Brian's dick twitched as Justin's luscious ass came into view, smooth skin, round cheeks, deep cleft.

When the briefs had reached the tops of his thighs, Justin turned over onto his back and lifted his legs. There.

Wet, pink and waiting for his tongue. Brian gazed at the boy's hole, exposed to view. Crossing the floor on his knees, he grabbed hold of the briefs, raising Justin's legs off the floor, keeping his legs up out of the way, and lowered his face between his cheeks.

The first lick made him moan uncontrollably. Just a light flick to let him know he was there, and then Brian pressed his tongue harder against his hole. Justin's muscles tensed as the tip played in the folds of his ass. This was what Brian did better than anyone. "Yes!" he uttered and felt his hole open and Brian's tongue ease inside. "Uh—" He grabbed the rug in both fists and swallowed a cry. Nerves fired all over his body, as if a dozen men were licking every inch of his skin. All that from Brian's tongue buried in his backside. He could feel precum trickling down his belly.

Brian curled the tip of his tongue and Justin's muscles fluttered. He willed his hole to open wider, wished Brian could get his entire tongue inside him, could lick him from the rim to the deepest recesses of his ass. He felt Brian's teeth close on the edge of a fold and cried out as the man tugged him open and nibbled on his rosy flesh. Over and over again Brian gnawed on the wrinkled folds of his ass until Justin thoguht he'd lose his mind. His back arched and the rug twisted beneath him as he fought to hold on. Sweat ran down between his pecs to pool in his throat.

He'd been inside Justin many times and it never failed to amaze him how much he loved riming him, tongue-fucking him until the pink ring of muscle began to spasm and beg for more than his tongue, beg for the feel of his cock sliding through. Removing his tongue, he opened Justin with his finger. The teen jumped a little, then settled down to enjoy the smooth, easy strokes as he fingered him. Sliding first from side to side, then from top to bottom, Brian's finger made a thorough circuit, the pad rubbing over the ridged surface of the inside of his ass. Without breaking his stride, Brian nuzzled Justin's balls and lapped at them as he continued to work his finger in and out. He kissed the round sac and whispered, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Justin's eyelids fluttered. "Yes."

Brian withdrew his finger, then massaged the outer rim of his ass, the ring of muscle having swollen and grown more tender. He heard Justin take in a sharp breath. "You want it bad, don’t you?"

"Yes."

"Bad enough to beg?"

"Fuck me."

"Fuck you?" he teased.

"Fuck me."

Brian lowered his head and kissed Justin's hole. "I am. I'm gonna fuck you…"

"Fuck me."

"Fuck your sweet ass..."

"Yes…"

"Until you scream." Leaving him for a moment, Brian got the condoms and the KY. Encased his cock in latex and slathered lube over the length of it. Used his fingers to lubricate Justin's hole too. Briefs still around the teenager's legs, Brian held onto them with one hand and with the other he guided his cock to its destination.

Yes! This was what he'd wanted. As his hole stretched around Brian's cock head, he imagined how it looked and made a mental note to see if they could make another video. Just thinking about the other two was enough to make him hard most days. But that was for later, right now he was too swept up in the feel of Brian's dick as it made its way up his hole. The head hit his spot making him tingle all over, then moved on. He could feel Brian's balls pressing against his ass. He was in.

Taking a moment to rest, Brian began a slow withdrawal, keeping his eyes on Justin's face to gauge his responses to his lover's actions. Not that Brian needed to. He knew Justin, knew a hundred different ways to please him. And right now, Justin was pleased.

Asshole slick with saliva and lube, hard cock thrusting up inside it; hips pumping, rising to meet Brian's lunges, Justin held onto the rug and gritted his teeth. He wanted to scream, to tell the world how much he loved being fucked by his man. He loved the fact that he was utterly under Brian's control. With his legs still entangled in his briefs, his ass full of his lover's cock, he was completely in Brian's hands, to do with as he wished.

Responding to some internal signal, Brian slowed everything down. Hips swaying leisurely to and fro, he kept them hovering on the brink of pleasure, pushing them closer and closer but never releasing control, never allowing them to tumble over the edge.

Justin sighed and reached for his dick, gave it a few easy strokes, squeezed his balls. He let his hands slide down between his thighs. His fingers brushed over Brian's groin, combed through his pubes, encircled his dick. "Mmm," he moaned, the throbbing organ hot beneath his hand. "Yeah..." He eased a finger inside his hole, along side Brian's cock. Pressed the tip against the hard shaft. Brian shuddered and paused. Justin withdrew his finger, then eased two inside and began to stroke his meat in earnest.

He loved it. Sloppy fucking. Feeling Brian's wet cock between his fingers, feeling his own slippery hole. He rubbed his thumb along the neck of Brian's dick and sighed.

Brian withdrew entirely and looked down at Justin's hole, bright pink and gaping open from its pounding, from the teen playing in his own ass: loose, relaxed, and still hungry. He released the teen's legs and helped him onto his knees. Gripped the sides of his hips and entered him again.

"Oh, yeah… Oh, yeah--Brian. Brian."

"I know, baby. I know."

Justin's head hung between his shoulders and he groaned, moaned, and whimpered as Brian fucked him even harder than before. Each thrust jostled him. He felt wide open and yet tight as Brian filled him completely. His cock bounced before him, stiff between his legs, precum dripping onto the bear rug. One more thrust, one more, right there, right… right there. Yes, yes, yes. Brian freed a hand and encircled the teen's cock. Justin yelled. "Oh, God! Oh, God…" He didn't care who heard him. The head of his dick expanded and a gush of precum wet Brian's fingers. The man rubbed the teen's slit and pisshole and Justin choked and jerked. Cum erupted from the tip. Eyes shut tight, he grunted and his hole clenched Brian's dick. Working his hips back and forth, Justin forced Brian's cock to nudge his prostate over and over again. Fucking himself on his lover's dick, the boy continued to come until his balls were empty. He sighed and relaxed, releasing his hold on Brian's meat.

Relieved and unbearably hard, Brian began jabbing him again, his cock having swollen as well. His balls slapped against Justin's ass as he plowed his hole. Hands spread over his back, Brian gave a final thrust and shouted. "Oh, fuck…" His hips moved mindlessly as he dropped his load. "Oh, fuck," he breathed again as the last spasm gripped him. He leaned over Justin's body and, still buried inside him, kissed his shoulders and the back of his neck. "I love you," he whispered.

Justin shut his eyes, satisfied. 

 

He looked up, momentarily lost, then remembered where he was, remembered that he and Justin had come here to try and patch things up between them and it'd worked. He felt closer to his partner than he had in weeks. Maybe things would be better from now on. He went to reach for Justin and couldn't raise his arm, tried to look over at him and couldn't move his head. Panicked, he tried to call him but couldn't open his mouth. And then he saw it. A spot of darkness blacker than the night around it, there on the ceiling and he knew, somehow, that it looked so small because it was far away. But it was growing, spreading, moving closer and closer to him; it was like watching a plant bloom, the process speeded up by a camera. His heart raced and he tried to close his eyes but he couldn’t, not with that thing getting closer to him and Justin. Justin! Justin didn't know, slept unaware and he had to save him, couldn't let the shadow touch him, devour him. Justin! he screamed in his mind, as it kept getting closer and closer, the darkness hanging over them, only a few inches away. His chest ached from the effort to scream, to wake Justin before it touched them—

"Justin!"

The teen jerked awake and grabbed Brian as the man's eyes flew open at last, wide with terror. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm here," and he wanted to cry because he thought they were finished, the dreams were finished but they weren't. One evening of making love wasn't enough, one weekend in the country wasn't enough. God, he wanted to cry.

Brian did. Curled in Justin's arms, he wept because he'd believed the dreams were over and it hurt, it hurt so much that he'd done everything he could and nothing had helped. No matter how hard he tried, nothing changed and he was losing everything, everything was slipping through his fingers. He sobbed and held onto Justin's arm but it was only illusion, neither of them was strong enough to stop the dreams and one night the dreams would win, the shadow would envelope them, and the fight would be over. And he was so tired...

Justin was terrified. He'd never seen Brian like this before, so lost and out of control of his emotions, weeping wildly. "Brian? Brian, please… talk to me."

But he said nothing. There was nothing left to say. Tears crawling down his cheeks, he tightened his grip on his lover, finding no comfort there, the action unconscious, an automatic response that had nothing to do with any confidence in either of them. And he cried.

Laying his head upon Brian's crown, Justin held him and the tears did come then because he knew as Brian did, he felt it too: the beginning of the end.

As the sound of Justin's misery penetrated his own pain, Brian grew angry. How hard had they fought to be together only to fall apart now? They'd survived Justin's dad and fuckin Chris Hobbs and that goddamn trial and Cam and everything else only to lose to this? To a fucking dream no matter what it stood for?

"No," he said and he startled himself.

Justin loosened his grip. "Brian?"

"No," he repeated and he turned and faced Justin. "I won't do it. I won't let it win. You hear me?"

"I hear you," replied Justin as a tear rolled down his face.

Brian wiped it away and kissed him softly. "I won't let it win," he whispered grimly against his baby's cheek. "I won't." 

_Put your shoes on/ Walk with me into this light/ Finally this morning/ I'm feeling whole again/ It was a hell of a night_ 3

Sunlight streamed through the trees, lighting their path as they wandered the land around the cabin. Hand in hand they walked the woods, grateful just to be alive and together.

_Just to be with you by my side/ Just to have you near in my sight/ Just to walk a while in this light/ Just to know that life goes on_

"Oh shit." Brian covered his eyes with his hands.

"Chicken," laughed Justin as he removed them. "Everything looks so beautiful from up here."

Up here meaning from the basket of a hot air balloon travelling way too far above ground for Brian's tastes. Justin had talked him into it and he was having second and third thoughts about the wisdom of being up in a balloon with Mr. Greenjeans at the controls. The guy fuckin looked like Mr. Greenjeans from Captain Kangeroo.

"Sure it does," he grumbled, "until you hit a tree or crash."

Justin kissed him on the chin. "Just think about the picnic we're going to have when we land." Brian blanched. _Maybe thinking about food isn't such a hot idea,_ he said to himself. 

But by the time they touched down an hour later, Brian had begun to enjoy himself.

"Next, parachuting," Justin told him and Brian looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Not in this fuckin lifetime," Brian said.

Justin kissed him again, certain the pilot was getting an eyeful and an earful today. "You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?"

Pretending that it didn't affect him at all, Brian couldn't quite pull it off and Justin knew he had him and grinned, pleased as can be. Brian muttered beneath his breath, "Fucker."

The pilot declined their invitation to join them, having seen and heard more about gay life than he'd probably wanted to on the trip over. So they took their basket and blanket and walked a ways out of direct sight of the balloon (they could still see the brightly colored canvas through the trees) and set up camp. There were chicken salad sandwiches and potato chips, a crisp white Zinfandel and chilled fruit. After they ate, they stretched out on the blanket, Brian's head on Justin's belly, the man half-dozing as the teen named shapes in the clouds. Suddenly, Brian laughed.

"What?" Justin demanded.

"We're like an ad for some California vineyard."

"Ridiculously romantic," Justin said, supplying the punch line of the joke, and he laughed too because they were but they deserved it, especially after the night they'd had, after the month they'd had, the past two months really. He ran his fingers through Brian's hair. "I love you."

"I know."

Justin shoved him. "Asshole."

"That's my name, don’t wear it out." He crawled on top of his lover, kissed him long and hard. Pulled away, leaving Justin momentarily breathless. "You were saying?"

"Shut up and kiss me again." Added as Brian got closer, "Asshole."

There were more than a few blades of grass and twigs caught in their clothes as they returned to the balloon. Which the pilot pretended not to notice. Justin supposed he was used to couples making out on these excursions. He just hoped the guy stayed upwind of them. 

 

Even though they'd made love during lunch, the moment they hit the cabin they tore off their clothes and fell upon one another. They'd never get enough, that was what Brian always said and Justin was beginning to believe he was right. As he climbed onto Brian's erection, he certainly hoped it was true.

Lying entwined on the bed, waiting for their strength to return so that they could wash (they smelled a little ripe) Justin began to hum and Brian smiled and then laughed outright as he recognized the mumbled words. And Justin giggled because he'd been caught out, because he hadn't thought Brian would know the song because why would he? But he did because he'd read the same stories to Gus too.

 _Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,_  
Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,  
Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum.  
Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle,  
Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle,  
Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um. 4 

Fuck, he hoped Justin was home and had cooked. He'd skipped lunch today to get some last minute work done on an account and he was starving. As he pulled open the door, he smelled steak. Thank God, he said to himself and then out loud, "Did I ever tell you you're the best twinkie in the whole wide world?"

"Don't call me a twinkie," Justin said from his post in front of the stove, then grinned. "I better be the best."

Giving him a peck first on the neck and then on the lips, Brian headed for the bedroom to change and saw the mail on the dining table. Remembered grades were due. "You get em?" he asked, certain Justin would know what he was talking about.

"Yeah," the teen replied.

Detecting a less-than-pleased note in his voice, Brian poked his head out of the bedroom as he removed his tie. "What?" Justin shrugged. He left the bedroom. "What?"

"Professor Janson."

Brian tensed. He'd known before Justin had opened his mouth.

"I mean, I know I'm not the world's greatest sculptor but I did all the assignments and my stuff wasn't the worst in the class."

"What'd he give you?"

"Fuckin C plus."

Brian went hot all over. _Motherfucker._ He ducked back into the bedroom and got his shoes, came out again and sat down to put them on.

"Brian?" Justin looked worried. "You can't do anything. It's up to him what he gives me. You can't go there," he said, panicked when it looked as if Brian was determined to do just that. "Brian?"

"You deserve better than that."

"Look, it's nothing. I'll get over it."

"Fucker did it just to get at me."

"I know he made that pass at you but come on--"

"That's not all." Brian waited for Justin to sit. Fuck, he didn't want to do this, not when things had gotten halfway good between them. He hadn't had a dream for four days, had thought that maybe they were over for good. Shit. It was always something. "While you were in DC... that night you didn't call--"

"I called." It was still a sore subject between them.

"Late. Anyway... I went to Babylon and got completely wasted. Trevor was there. He got me to go home, even followed me in his car to make sure I didn't end up decorating the highway."

Justin stood. "I don't want to hear this."

"I was freakin out, Justin, cause I knew you were with Xavier and I--I just needed someone to want me--"

"My fuckin teacher?! Fuck." He looked away, angry. "Fuck it, Brian."

"I'm sorry. It was just that one time and I thought he understood."

"But he didn't. Cause who can fuck the great Brian Kinney and not want more?"

Brian reminded him, "You were in DC shoving your fucking tongue down Xavier's throat, so I don't think you've got any goddamn room to talk. I said I was sorry. And I'll take care of it."

Scared, Justin tried to hold him back. "Don't."

"I won't be long." He grabbed his keys, slamming the door close behind him.

Justin turned off the steaks and put them on a platter. Then sat on one of the barstools to wait. 

 

He'd seen Trevor's car in the parking lot and knew he was inside. Glancing in the window of his studio, Brian saw him. Working on the statue. Fucking asshole. He pushed open the door.

Trevor turned. "What do you want? You made it perfectly--"

Brian swung and hit him squarely in the jaw. Trevor stumbled and fell back against the statue. "Fuck you," Brian snarled.

"What the hell--"

"You fucking gave him a C plus and you know he didn't deserve it."

"I--"

"You asshole. You want to hurt me, to get back at me, be a man and come after me. You don't fuck with him, you understand? You understand!" he bellowed.

Trevor got up cautiously, unsure if Brian was going to hit him again.

"I want it changed."

"I can't give him an A."

"You give him what he deserves. He knows he's not an A fuckin student but he knows he's better than a C plus."

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck you." He started to go.

"Brian?"

He turned. "You ever fuck with him again, I'll be back. And I'll make you wish you hadn't." With that, he left.

Trevor rubbed his jaw, recalled the anger in Brian's eyes. In those eyes he'd tried so hard to replicate first in clay and now in stone. So that he could forget them, forget the way they'd teased on the dance floor, the way they'd blazed when they'd fucked. And he couldn't. Picking up a hammer, Trevor slammed the head against the statue. Stone chips flew. He struck the statue again.

He would forget. 

 

He jumped as the door opened and Brian came inside the loft. Still angry. He could tell by the dull gleam in his eyes and he wondered what had happened, although he was afraid he knew the answer.

Brian said nothing, just came in and made for the bedroom. Justin followed him, sat on the bed while he changed. When the man was done, he joined his young partner and willed his pulse to stop racing. Took Justin's hand in his. "I'm sorry."

Justin moved into his arms. "Me too." He rubbed Brian's belly through his shirt. "Steaks are ruined."

In his thirst for justice, he'd forgotten about dinner. Now his hunger returned sharper than ever. "Let's go out."

"Somewhere nice. Not the diner," frowned Justin.

"Fine," offered Brian, "as long as you don't wear anything from the Dawson Creek Fall Collection."

"There's no such thing."

Brian stood and spread his hands as if he were Vana White. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, our next model, Justin, is wearing a lovely blue cotton jersey with a white racing stripe down the side and a pair of grey cargo pants." Grinning, he fended off the boy's attack and laughed as Justin pulled him down onto the bed and tickled him mercilessly before kissing him for a very long minute.

"Delivery," Justin whispered in his ear and Brian agreed, the teen already unbuttoning his shirt and sliding his hand inside. 

 

Seated naked on the rug in the livingroom, food spread out between them, they went over the details of their upcoming trip. Justin told Brian that their passports should be arriving any day now and Brian said that he'd ordered the plane tickets from Pittsburgh to London and from Paris to Pitts. "I also confirmed our hotel reservation in Paris."

"You mean Cynthia did. What about London?" since they were going there first.

"Still looking for someplace… different."

"We could always stay with the Queen," Justin suggested.

"I didn't know Emmett had a place in England. No wonder he can't afford to pay rent here."

"He always says it's hard being a queen among commoners."

"He's right, he usually is hard among the commoners."

Justin laughed and popped a won-ton in his mouth. Chewed reflectively. Brian waited for him to share his thoughts. "Know where I've always wanted to go?" He shook his head. "Hong Kong."

"Bang. Cock," Brian said, smirking.

"Maybe next year we can go to Asia. Do Hong Kong, Bangkok, Tokyo, Sydney…"

"Uh-huh," Brian replied noncommittally, wondering how much that would cost him.

"Go scuba diving off the Great Barrier Reef."

"Get eaten by a Great White shark."

"Exploring the Australian outback."

"Exploring the backrooms in Beijing."

Justin nudged him with his foot. "Behave." Paused with a piece of sweet and sour chicken halfway to his mouth. "Do I have to put a leash on you when we're in Europe?"

Up went his right eyebrow the way it did when he was amused. "Might be fun." 

 

They were in the Jeep and Justin was driving. _Why was Justin driving the Jeep? _The sun was shining and they were on their way to the Big Q. God, _why the fuck did they have to go there?___

__Justin parked and got out of the car. Brian reached for the handle to get out and couldn't. Immediately his pulse rate increased. He didn't try to move his head, knew that he couldn't, and he was afraid to anyway, afraid of what he might see slouching towards the car, a lumbering darkness. Hearing a noise coming from behind the Jeep, he cut his eyes towards the side mirror. They widened in terror. There. The darkness, man-high and man-shaped, shambling towards him, eyeless yet somehow fixed on him, its mouth gaping open, stretched in a parody of speaking, the horrible sound of his mangled name raising the hairs on his forearms. "Iaannn…" Paralyzed by fear, he could only watch it come closer and closer, until its image filled the mirror. Its presence was like a blast of cold air on the otherwise warm day. The tips of his fingers ached as he gripped his thighs. A tear slipped down his cheek. He saw five black fingers reach for him and closed his eyes. Felt the coldness permeate his bones as the hand reached inside the open window and touched his shoulder._ _

__He drew in a deep breath and his eyes flew open. Shivering from the cold even though he was under the covers, he lay there, trembling for a moment then rose on shaky legs and went to find temporary relief. He had awakened, but too late. The shadow had touched him. Even now he could feel the fingers of ice inching towards his heart. The pain was incredible. How long would it take before his heart stopped? Before his lungs filled with frozen oxygen? Aware that it was a futile gesture at best, he reached for the bottle of Beam. He couldn't pour the shot of bourbon fast enough. Knocked it back and poured another._ _

__"Brian?"_ _

__Refusing to meet his eyes, he said, "Go back to sleep." He didn't want Justin to see the frost in his eyes._ _

__But, of course, Justin came forward. "What are you doing?"_ _

__Lifting his glass, he explained, "Having a drink," as if that weren't obvious._ _

__"What's wrong?"_ _

__He headed for the livingroom. "I woke up thirsty."_ _

__"Brian—"_ _

__"Go back to bed," he ordered the teen but Justin ignored his command._ _

__"Brian, please... Dr. Drew said--"_ _

__"Fuck Drew! And fuck talking! And fuck--" He stopped. No, he wouldn't say it. Didn't mean it._ _

__"Me? Fuck me? Is that what you wanted to say?"_ _

__"Go back to bed," he said, each word like a stone dropped in a well. Justin reached for him and he flashed on the dream, on the shadow's hand reaching for him. "Don't touch me!" If only he could save Justin, keep him safe from the darkness, from the shadow... he had to, that was the most important thing: to save Justin. The way he hadn't in that parking garage. I can save him and we won't have to go through what we did._ _

__Confused, Justin continued to reach for him. "Brian?"_ _

__The feel of Justin's hand upon his arm was like fiery ice. "No!" In an instant he'd pushed the teenager away from him. In a flash he saw Justin's head snap back, struck by Chris Hobbs/him. Heard the sound of the bat striking his skull. I hit him. He saw Justin fall. Onto the cement. Flash. The floor. Forehead bleeding. No! "Justin!"_ _

__He tripped over his bookbag lying in wait behind him and crashed into the barstools; hit the floor, entangled in metal bars and a plastic seat. His head struck the hard tiled surface and he winced in pain._ _

__Brian knelt by him, moved the barstool from on top of him. "Justin?"_ _

__"I'm okay," he replied weakly. The back of his head ached but he didn't think it was serious. He started to get up._ _

__"No." Brian looked around, panicked. "I'll…" He frowned, confused. The darkness blinded him. He looked out at the world through sightless eyes. His throat burned from the cold. It was inside him. He saw_ _

__the shadow striking Justin with a baseball bat._ _

__himself swinging the bat towards the teen._ _

__He shook his head, denying the vision but it was hard and the image lingered even as he spoke. "We have to go to the hospital."_ _

__"I'm all right," Justin told him and again tried to rise but Brian eased him back._ _

__"I'll get your clothes." He stood, uncertain, then disappeared into the bedroom._ _

__Justin lay back and closed his eyes. Oh, God…_ _

__

__They'd taken him in the back. He could see_ _

__himself sitting in the hallway crying, waiting for Mikey to come. Blood on his face, his hands, his clothes._ _

__himself sitting on the witness stand as Keisha asked him, "Why did you assault Mr. Taylor?"_ _

__He bit his lip and looked away from the nurse who was taking down Justin's information._ _

__"Sir? Sir, are you a relative?"_ _

__"No," he whispered. I'm nothing._ _

__

__She picked up the phone expecting to hear that one of her parents had died and heard his voice instead. Her heart stopped. She listened to him tell her Justin was in the hospital and was out of bed before he could finish. Thinking, Not again; and then her mind turned to other things, to practical matters like what to do with Molly while she was gone._ _

__

__Hands shaking, he laid his forehead against the steering wheel. He'd fled the hospital, not sure what he'd intended to do but knowing he couldn't stay there, not with Jenn coming, not wanting to see the accusations in her eyes. _You hurt him._ Flash._ _

__Saw himself crouched over Justin as the teenager lay on the floor of the loft, blood pooling beneath his head. Brian stretched out his arms and watched the darkness spread from his fingertips to his elbows._ _

__He sobbed and gripped the wheel with white fingers. _No. I didn't do that. I…_ He lifted his head and pressed his fingers to his temples. _I know what happened. I was there.__ _

__Justin turned around and looked as he swung the bat._ _

__"No..." He got out his cell, speed dialed a number. Waited for an answer, nearly coming out of his skin in the meanwhile. He had pulled over in front of a row of closed stores on a street he didn't recognize except that he knew that he was somewhere near his apartment building._ _

__A sleepy voice came on the line. "Huh?"_ _

__"It's me," he said, voice weak and pale._ _

__"Brian? Is that you?"_ _

__"Help me." He caught his breath. "Please."_ _

__"Where are you?"_ _

__"I…"_ _

__"Are you home?"_ _

__"No."_ _

__"Can you get home?"_ _

__"I… I think so."_ _

__"I'm coming to your place. Okay?"_ _

__"Okay."_ _

__"Brian? Brian, it'll be all right."_ _

__The phone going dead sent him into a panic. After a few moments his vision cleared enough and his limbs stopped shaking enough that he was able to start the Jeep again._ _

__

__Coming through the opened door, Drew saw Brian was sitting on the steps of his bedroom, face streaked with tears, hugging himself. "Brian, where's Justin?"_ _

__"Make me forget," he whispered, voice hoarse from weeping._ _

__"Forget what?"_ _

__"Everything." He hid his face, then snatched his hands away. They were wet with blood. He moaned._ _

__Drew squatted in front of him. "Brian, where's Justin?"_ _

__"At the hospital."_ _

__The therapist forced himself to remain calm. Brian was teetering on the edge. Drew could smell the alcohol on Brian's breath and prayed that the teen was all right, that they hadn't been in an accident. "What happened? Brian?"_ _

__"Help me."_ _

__"I will but you have to tell me what happened."_ _

__The man looked so mournful, so abject in his misery that Drew longed to hold him. "I hit him." Staring at his hands, Brian said, "I pushed him and he fell."_ _

__Drew looked around and noticed for the first time the overturned barstool and the bookbag on the floor. Understood what must have happened. That Brian had pushed Justin and the teenager had tripped over the bag and fallen._ _

__"And he hit his head."_ _

__"Why did you push him?"_ _

__But Brian grabbed his head in both hands as if he were trying to keep the pieces together. "My head hurts." He sobbed and his hands trembled, loosened their grip. "It hurts." He leaned against the doorframe, still crying._ _

__Drew touched his face lightly. "I'll make it stop, okay?" Brian didn't answer but his eyes closed, trusting like a child that Drew would take care of everything. The man left him and found a glass, filled it with water. _I have to get him calmed down, have to figure out what happened._ He handed Brian both the water and a pill from a bottle in the bag he'd brought with him, not certain what he would find when he got there. When Brian had swallowed it, he helped him up. "Come on, I want you to lie down." He settled Brian under the covers and sat next to him on the bed, stroking his hair. "Close your eyes."_ _

__"It hurts…"_ _

__"It'll stop."_ _

__"What have I done?"_ _

__"Shh… We'll fix it, I promise." Drew sniffled, looked up to keep the tears from falling. "I promise."_ _

__

__What had happened? It was all he could do to wait until Justin returned. If he returned. _He'll be back._ Despite everything, Justin loved Brian, he wouldn't leave him, not yet, not unless things were worse than they seemed. And they might have been, he didn't know. Brian hadn't been able to tell him much beyond the bare facts and Drew suspected the veracity of those. It was clear that Brian wasn't thinking clearly, was hysterical, panicked, maybe even suicidal. He hated to think how he would respond if Justin didn't return. He didn't think Brian would make it if that happened. So much of their individual strength came from being part of a pair, came from the bond between them. Being together meant that they could be better, stronger than they would have been apart. What would happen to them if they no longer were together? _ _

__The door opening startled him. He checked to make sure Brian was still out and he was, still sleeping peacefully, the drug having achieved what nothing else could. Drew got up just as Jennifer and Justin came inside the loft._ _

__"Where is he?" asked Justin, moving forward only to stop as Jenn tightened her grip on his arm._ _

__"Asleep. Are you all right?"_ _

__Before Jenn could answer, he told him, "Just a bump. He didn't hurt me," he said emphatically, which let Drew know that the teen had argued that point with his mother._ _

__"You'll be okay?" she asked._ _

__"I'll be fine. I just want to go to sleep."_ _

__She looked leery so Drew added, "I'll be here." Satisfied that Justin wouldn't be alone with Brian, Jennifer nodded. Gave Justin a kiss._ _

__"If you need anything…"_ _

__"I know." When she had left, he reached for the counter to steady himself._ _

__"Justin?"_ _

__"They gave me this painkiller…"_ _

__Drew took his arm. "You can get in with him. You won't wake him and I think it'll do both of you some good."_ _

__"Is he okay?"_ _

__The lie that he was about to give voice to receded. "No, Justin, he's not okay. But we'll deal with that in the morning."_ _

__

___I can't lose him. No matter what, no matter what I have to do, I'll do it. I just... Please, help me._ _ _

__He didn't know who he was talking to, didn't know if anyone was listening or if they cared but just thinking the words helped, made him feel a little stronger, a little surer of himself and what he had to do. Risking a touch, he laid his arm across Brian's body and held him. I love you. He blinked and the tears slipped from beneath his lids. That was his real prayer, the only thing he really believed in. _I love you…__ _

__Upon waking he remembered. He felt the warmth of Justin's body next to his. Risked a glance. So bright, his golden boy, his beautiful baby. A shadow crossed the sleeping teen's face and he swallowed a moan. _No. Not Justin._ He closed his eyes to clear his vision but the first thing he saw when he opened them was a trickle of blood seeping from Justin's forehead. He had done that. He'd hurt him in so many ways. He eased back the covers and padded to the bathroom. Justin slept on. _ _

__He closed the door behind him. Not wanting to, he faced himself in the mirror. The nearly featurless form of the shadow stared back at him. He reached towards the surface of the mirror and the shadow responded. His fingers touched the cold glass. He was the darkness, the darkness was part of him, infecting everything and everyone he touched. No one had escaped harm, not even himself. It was too late for him. But he could save Justin. Justin was the good part of him, Justin and Gus, the two things he'd done right and he had to make sure the shadow didn't overtake them too. He lowered his head, eyes shut, summoning the strength to do what needed to be done. Then, mind made up, he pulled out the drawer where he kept his razor. Took it out and opened the top. _I'm sorry_ , he told his sleeping lover, but I did it for you. He reached for the blade—_ _

__

__The door slid open. He turned. There stood Drew. The therapist said nothing, just waited to see what he would do. His hands shook. Without wasting a motion, Drew moved to the side. And Justin came into view. Still asleep, still ignorant of Brian's actions. The gesture said more than any words. _Do it with him in sight,_ Drew seemed to challenge him._ _

__Slowly, he closed the razor and returned it to its place. Only then did Drew leave the doorway, walking back towards the rest of the apartment. Brian followed. As they passed the kitchen, Drew asked, "Coffee?" Brian shook his head. The shrink took seat at the end of the sofa nearest the computer desk and faced the bedroom so that he could keep an eye on Justin. "Then we can get started right away."_ _

__"There's no point," Brian said wearily as he sat on the other end, eyes fixed on the windows in front of him._ _

__"Why now?" Although it made sense, that Brian had fought it until he'd done the one unforgivable thing: he'd hurt Justin._ _

__"Because I'm what's wrong. It's me," he admitted and Drew could see the pain in his eyes as he said it._ _

__"Talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling. And no more bullshit, no more holding back. You tell me all of it."_ _

__Brian averted his eyes from the sunlight pouring in through the windows. Said softly, "He was right. My old man was right. He always said I wasn't good enough and he was right. I'm not." He spoke slowly, haltingly. "And nothing I do, not this place, or the job, or the clothes, or the drugs makes a damn bit of difference. It'll never be enough because I'm not. And I've always known it. Everyone has. That's why Cam left. That's why Justin…" He couldn't say it. "Because I'm nothing. And all this shit," he gestured at the loft and everything in it, "was just my way of putting off what should have been done a long time ago." As he spoke the tears flowed but he didn't bother to wipe them way. It was as if it was normal. "But I can't do anything right. Not even that," he finished, just above a sigh._ _

__"You tried to kill yourself after Cam left, didn't you?" It made sense, that a similiar situation would evoke a similiar response; that the dreams: the darkness and the shadow, were symptoms of the despair creeping upon him once more._ _

__"I came home every night for a week, thinking he'd be there or that he'd call. Because I… I couldn't believe that he didn't want me. Because… Because I loved him so much. And I wanted to believe that Jack was wrong, that I was good enough, that I… But he didn't call and he never came and it just kept getting harder and harder to care about anything."_ _

__Drew saw Justin come and stand in the doorway. The teen said nothing, just stood there listening, watching. Brian was unaware of his presence._ _

__"So I got these sleeping pills." Laughed. "Two bottles to make sure I didn't fuck it up. I could just hear Jack in the hospital, 'You couldn't even do that right. She should have gotten rid of you before you were born like I wanted her to.' " Brian paused as if the pain was too much._ _

__"What happened?"_ _

__Brian laughed again, a bitter sound. "Mikey came over. And he wouldn't leave. It's like he fuckin knew. And he wouldn't leave. And I couldn't do it with him there... and after he left I couldn’t do it because I didn't want him to blame… himself." Brian covered his face and sobbed. "But I should have. Because it's been so hard..."_ _

__Justin came bounding down the stairs. Drew could hear the anger in his steps, see it in the set of his jaw._ _

__"Where are they?" Brian looked up, startled and ashamed that Justin had heard his confession._ _

__"What?" asked Drew._ _

__"The pills. The ones you gave him last night. I know you've got more. Where are they?"_ _

__"Justin—" Drew was afraid, unsure as to what Justin was doing, wavering between stopping him and letting go on. In the end, Justin didn't give him a choice._ _

__The teen turned on Brian. "You want to die, then do it! I'll even help you. I'll give you the fucking pills, I'll fuckin feed them to you if that's what you want. What were you gonna do? Do it while I was asleep? Wait until I was gone?" Brian didn't answer. "You don't have to. I'm not afraid. And you don't have to be either. Because I'm here. You're not alone. I'm here and you don't have to be afraid anymore. Whatever you want, I'll do it. If you want me to, I'll hold you... until…" he swallowed, "until you're gone. Cause I'm strong enough for that, understand? I'm strong enough to watch you die." _And then I would._ Tears streaked his face but he continued despite them, his voice strong if not steady. "But if you want to live, I'm strong enough for that too. I'm strong enough to help you live. But you have to decide. You have to decide what you want. And you tell me and I'll do it. I'll do whatever you want… cause I love you. But you have to decide. I can't do that for you. You have to decide," he said, sitting next to Brian and facing him. "You have to decide."_ _

__Blues eyes fixed on his, Brian was caught. He couldn't look away and he couldn't shut his own eyes. Justin wouldn't let him free. He had to decide what it was that he wanted, what he would do: either surrender to the darkness or fight it, continue to struggle against it. Because this was his reward, Justin was his reward. Justin was still there. He hadn't gone, hadn't been scared away, hadn't abandoned him, hadn't given up on him. In a whisper, he said, "I want to live." Justin grabbed him and held him tightly, surprising strength in his slender frame and Brian realized that that had always been the wonder of Justin, that he was so strong, that he was strong enough. "I want to live."_ _

__And Justin closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean on his partner._ _

___Brian preened on the steps of St. Patrick's Cathedral while Cam filmed him, a disembodied voice which asked, "Ever think about getting married?" and Brian shrugged, a slender young man with slightly shaggy hair and pouty red lips, lips that pursed as he replied to the question._ _ _

___"Never did anything for my folks." Looked from under his bangs. "You?"_ _ _

___"Not like we can."_ _ _

___And Brian grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "We could do it right here. Get married." He moved closer. "In." Closer. "St. fucking Patrick's Cathedral." The camera fell away, shooting footage of the ground before going to black._ _ _

___The next shot was of the two of them kneeling together in a secluded corner, the camera perched on something, looking into one another's eyes solemnly. And then they both started to laugh and fell into one another's arms giggling like Catholic school girls. They kissed, drew apart, then kissed again._ _ _

__Pausing the VCR, Brian asked, "You want to see the rest?"_ _

__"You were so beautiful," Justin told him instead of answering his question. "You still are. Even more than you were back then." He raised Brian's right hand and kissed his fingers. The platinum band shone against his pale skin._ _

__Brian hit the play button on the remote and watched as his younger self and a lover who had since passed continued to kiss. He had thought that they'd be together forever, had thought that he'd found a soul mate. _Our little group has always been/ And always will be until the end…_ 5 Had thought being with Cam was a way to keep the darkness from overtaking him, to keep the hateful words from echoing in his head, _"You'll never be anything but a punk. I wish to God she'd gotten rid of you the way I wanted her to;_ " to soothe the sting of a dozen careless slaps and the dull ache of neglect. Even though he'd had Mikey, that hadn't been enough. Mikey was his best friend, Michael had to love him but Cam, Cam chose to love him and they hadn't been together for years and years the way he and Mikey had been. Cam hadn't known him the way Mikey had, hadn't known that the hurtful things that he said and did sometimes weren't his words or his actions but Jack's. Cam hadn't known that the arrogance and coolness were his way of fighting the shadow, of hiding his weaknesses. But Cam had loved him anyway and he'd opened up his heart to him and loved him in return._ _

__And then it was over. Cam had gone. He hadn't been enough. He hadn't been good enough._ _

__Justin continued to hold his hand and Brian let the tears come. It was all right to cry, all right to rely on someone else, on Justin, because Justin would be there for him and together they would fight the darkness, banish it from their lives: it had no place there anymore._ _

__

__Squatting, he carefully lay the videotape of him and Cam in New York on top of Jack Kinney's grave. Opened his jacket and removed the award he'd gotten for his HIV awareness campaign, the picture of his father holding him when he was a baby, and the cowry shell bracelet that Cam had given him and Justin had replaced. These too joined the video. That done, he stood and moved a few feet away, waiting._ _

__Pausing but a moment, Justin placed a drawing of Chris Hobbs next to Brian's things, then set the statue Xavier had made for him on top of it. The edges of the paper fluttered in the slight breeze. Justin joined Brian at the foot of the grave. _"You sure?"_ Brian had asked him when Justin had taken those things from the loft and Justin had nodded. He had no need of them anymore. Brian cupped his face and kissed him softly and together they left the cemetery, leaving behind their offerings to the furies, hoping they would be enough to buy them the peace they deserved. _ _

__

____Things that you do are always with me__  
You're laughing, you're always here  
What's the use of crying?  
It won't matter when we're old 6 

__

__**Lyrics** _ _

__1 "She's Becoming Gold" music and lyrics by Marc Cohen, Museum Steps Music, ASCAP, 1993._ _

__2 "When a Man is Wrong" music and lyrics by Seal, Perfect Songs, BMI._ _

__3 "Another Day" music and lyrics by James Taylor, Country Road Music, Inc. (BMI), 1997_ _

__4 "Winnie-the-Pooh," A. A. Milne, The World of Pooh, E. P. Dutton & Co, Inc., 1957, p.26._ _

__5 "Smells Like Teen Spirit" music by Nirvana, lyrics by Kurt Cobain, Virgin Songs, BMI._ _

__6 "Deep Space" music and lyrics by Rickie Lee Jones, Easy Money Music, ASCAP._ _


	7. London Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin's adventures in London. The first part of their European vacation!

He would have been hard-pressed to name a more beautiful view than that of his lover's body stretched out on the bed. Naked. Lying on his belly, his long, lean figure pale against the dark blue backdrop of the comforter. While it was true that he didn't possess a voluptuous bubble butt like Justin's, Brian often said that he had all that he could handle and Justin tended to agree. It was enough for him as well. More than enough to tempt him to touch the smooth mounds. So warm beneath his palm…

Brian reached around and smacked his hand away. "No," he muttered, head still buried in his pillow.

Trying again only to be rebuffed once more, Justin complained, "Why not?" He'd come home hungry and to have Brian tease him like this wasn’t fair. "Come on."

"I'm tired." It was true, he was pretty beat having put in a couple of extra long days in preparation for their trip later in the week.

But Justin was persistent. Again he laid his hand upon Brian's flank, only this time he stroked it as well. "I could make you feel better," he promised, letting his thumb run along the cleft between his cheeks. "Give you a massage."

"Uh-uh," came Brian's refusal but Justin noticed that his objection had lost some of its intensity. So he pressed his case, straddling Brian's legs and using both hands to ply the man's flesh, starting with his ass and moving down over the backs of his thighs, up over his behind again, then onto his waist, up his spine, over his shoulder blades, and along his neck, necessitating that Justin move up Brian's body as well, his genitals pressing against Brian's buttocks. Leaning forward, he kissed the nape of his partner's neck. "Feel better?" he whispered.

Turning his head to the side, Brian said in a husky voice, "Not yet."

Lying fully against him, Justin ran his hands up and down his partner's body, loving the feel of Brian's muscles and skin beneath his own chest, belly, and thighs. They turned onto their sides, Justin still up against Brian's back, and the teen reached around and stroked the man's torso, tugging on his nipples just a bit before fanning his fingers over his flat abdomen, the curly hairs of Brian's pubic area tickling his palm. Brian made a noise, pleased, and Justin continued his one-handed explorations, stroking Brian's thighs, moving his hand down along the slender columns as far as he could reach. Returning to his groin, the teen wrapped his fingers around his lover's penis. Gave him a few gentle strokes before tightening his grip and beginning again. In response, Brian thickened in his hand and Justin kissed his shoulder while continuing to pull. As Brian began to harden, Justin let go and reached for the lube. Wet his palm and took hold of him again. Repeatedly, he moved his hand up and down the stiff shaft, the lubricant making his movements smooth and easy. Head against Brian's shoulder, he could hear the change in the man's breathing just at the moment his cock throbbed. "Yes," Justin sighed and he pumped Brian again, feeling the head swell beneath his fingers. And even though his hand was already moist with lube, he knew the moment Brian began to leak, making his cock even more slippery to hold. Giving it one last slow stroke, Justin let go.

He eased Brian halfway onto his stomach. Then, from behind, he reached between his lover's thighs and ran his fingers along his perineum, massaging him from anus to balls. Listening to Brian's sharp intake of breath, he knew his motions had had the desired effect. Brian spread his legs open even wider and Justin continued to stroke the tight muscle until it was relaxed and warm. He cupped Brian's scrotum and rolled the man's balls in his palm, knowing that, by now, the tip of Brian's cock would be dripping with precum. He longed to lick the glistening drops from the head, to suck Brian's dick until he screamed, but was loathe to stop what he was doing. Besides, his own cock was growing impatient, longing to slide inside Brian's clenching hole.

Releasing him, Justin retraced his steps until his fingers were buried between his partner's cheeks, rubbing up against the knotted hole hidden in their depths, playing among the folds. Brian hissed through his teeth as the teen's fingertip entered him. Applying steady pressure, Justin slowly inched forward, the lube easing the way. Once his finger had sunk entirely inside Brian, he paused, then just as slowly withdrew it. He closed his eyes and imagined that he was his finger, exploring his lover's body, confined within the warm walls of his asshole. He could imagine the pleasure he'd give Brian, licking him, eating him from the inside. He could see Brian's body shuddering in ecstasy as his miniature partner made love to him from deep within with his entire body: face, nipples, cock, and thighs pressed into his flesh, undulating against him, vibrating with desire. The thought made him even harder.

After a few more trips inside, he added a second finger and felt Brian open up even wider to accept them both. He would open up even wider still for Justin's cock when it came demanding entrance, the thick head stretching his muscles painfully even as it plowed forward to give him pleasure.

Brian moaned into his pillow. Fuck, it felt so good, Justin's strong fingers sliding in and out of his hole, never leaving it entirely, the tips hooking upwards at the end of their withdrawal, curling just inside his swollen asshole. It felt so good… and his dick was so hard he thought he'd fuck a hole in the mattress if given the chance. Reaching down, he touched the head; it was slimy with precum and opened letting the tip of his finger rub against the inside. He gasped, "Oh…"

Removing his fingers, Justin put on a condom and lubed his dick. Neither one of them could wait any longer. Holding Brian open with one hand, he lodged his cockhead against his hole and pushed.

"Yes…" Brian moaned and Justin slid home, pubes tickling his ass. He rolled all the way over onto his belly, raising his hips a little.

Justin shifted positions, got on his knees and supported his weight on his hands. Gently, he rocked against Brian, fucking his lover tenderly.

With each stroke, Brian realized how much he'd needed this, to feel protected, cherished; to be pleasured by his lover, his man.

As Brian's moans increased, Justin changed positions again, this time kneeling upright between his legs, hands on Brian's hips to hold him in place as he quickened his thrusts, pumping harder and harder, thighs slapping against Brian's ass.

He could feel it, the cum filling his balls, a tingling feeling accompanying the pressure. Grunting, groaning, he felt the sensation expand to encompass his entire cock, his groin, his hole, his belly, and his chest. His entire body tingled as if Justin were fucking him all over. Mouth wide open, he panted as the sensation increased a hundredfold. He felt his balls seize up and he moaned, cloudy liquid dripping from the tip of his cock. Over and over his pisshole opened and cum surged forth until he was drained. A last drop hung suspended from the head, swaying with each breath.

Justin continued to fuck him, riding his ass with abandon, his cock rarely sliding out more than an inch or two, wanting to fuck his way up to Brian's throat, to choke him with his throbbing meat. God, he loved his tight ass, loved reaming him, fucking him until he was worn out. Grimacing, Justin slammed into Brian's hole one last time and pulled out. Removed the condom from his cock and showered his ass with cum. Hand around his dick, he directed the flow until Brian's cheeks were covered, marking him as his own. And he longed for the days when he would have fucked Brian bareback and watched his jizz trickle from his gaping hole. Bending over, he kissed Brian's buttocks and rested his face against his skin, fingers sliding over his anus, massaging the rosy edges with spunk and sweat. 

 

Having enjoyed the previous night's session enormously, Brian had awakened wanting more and he and Justin had fucked for half an hour before getting ready for work, the result being that he was a tiny bit sore as he settled down into his office chair to wait for Cynthia to arrive. He hoped she wouldn’t notice or she'd tease him all day. Although it'd be worth it. As he recalled how he'd begged Justin to fuck him harder, he smiled and blushed at the same time. And, of course, that's when she waltzed through the door.

"Looks like somebody got lucky last night. Or was it this morning? Maybe both?"

Scowling, he removed his sterling silver cigarette case, the one Justin had bought him in the Bahamas, and ignored her question. "What do I have?"

Cynthia grinned and sat across from him. Opened the book. "Both, huh?"

"And who was it who wanted a bottle of French perfume from a real Paris boutique?" he threatened.

Assuming a serious mien she flipped to the day's date. "Spoilsport."

"That's not what Justin said last night," he smirked. "Or this morning." Flicked the tip of his tongue.

She laughed and began going over the day's activities while Brian's mind wandered between Justin's thighs, wondering if he could persuade his lover to give a repeat performance tonight after the Munchers' going away party. 

 

As she watched the smile on Justin's face grow wider and wider, the passing hours bringing him one day closer to his dream trip to Europe, Deb found herself getting excited for him. Once or twice someone asked the teen why he was so happy and he told them, eyes brighter than any star in the sky, "I'm going to Europe."

As much as he liked working in the diner, he was looking forward to a month away from it and Pittsburgh.

Unable to resist, she asked him finally, "So, you ready to go?"

He laughed, seeing right through her. "I guess I look a little gooney, huh?"

She hugged him. "You look beautiful. I'm so happy for you, Sunshine."

His smile grew impossibly broader. "I can't believe it. I keep thinking I'm gonna wake up and have to go to class or something." He shook his head.

"You deserve it. Both of you." Kissing him soundly, she left him trying to wipe off her lipstick. 

 

Brian came in around noon and the entire diner was treated to the sight of them cuddling in a booth and kissing like they hadn't just seen each other three and a half hours earlier. When Mikey, Ted, and Emmett arrived, they parted but Justin stayed with them, on his lunch break, practically sitting in Brian's lap. Of course, it was a little tight as Debbie joined them too, so he had an excuse, not that he needed one. At the end of lunch Justin hung back with Brian and they picked up where they'd left off, kissing for another couple minutes before the ad exec said he absolutely had to go. After he'd gone, Deb asked, "Aren't you two going to Europe together?"

Justin frowned. "Yeah."

"Then why are you acting like you're gonna be apart for the next month?"

"Cause we've been apart for the last two," he explained and she understood.

"However you fixed things, you did good. I've never seen him happier."

And not wanting to get into it, he nodded, accepting the praise. He guessed eventually they'd have to explain but not yet. He really hoped they could put it out of their minds tonight at the party because he knew Mikey and Lindsay, in particular, were dying to know what had happened and they knew Brian was still seeing Drew but neither of them had pushed it, figuring Brian would let them in on it in his own time. Maybe he would but Justin got the feeling that it might be the one thing he'd never tell them. It seemed to be something between the two of them and no one else, except Drew. But he'd been there that terrible morning when everything had come so close to being destroyed.

"Sunshine?"

He smiled, realizing he'd let his thoughts show on his face. "Four more hours to go," he said and went to bus a table whose party had just left. 

 

Although they'd been putting things aside for their trip for days now, they waited until that evening to go through their clothes and decide exactly what to take. As Brian began assembling his wardrobe, Justin whistled. Brian stopped. "What?"

"You're taking all that?"

"Yeah."

"Brian, we have to carry that stuff on trains."

"So?" It wasn't as if either one of them was a ninety pound weakling.

"How many suits are you bringing?"

"Two. One dark, one light."

"How many pairs of slacks?"

"Four."

"How many pairs of jeans?"

"Three."

"Shirts?"

"Five."

"Sweaters?"

"Four."

"Tee shirts?"

"Five."

"Shorts?"

"Two for the gym and two for sightseeing."

"And how many pairs of shoes?"

"One pair of sneakers for the gym, one pair of walking shoes, and three pairs of boots."

"Brian!"

"What?"

"It's too much."

"It's the bare minimum." Of course, he fully intended to pick up a few things while they were abroad but they were extras.

"And you haven't even considered all the other stuff you have to take."

"We're going to be gone for a month," he said, thinking maybe Justin hadn't gotten it yet.

"You can't take all that stuff." That was final.

Brian heard the reprimand in his voice and resented it. "I—"

"They'll have dry cleaners."

"But—"

Justin wouldn't give up the advantage. "Besides all the books and the web sites say you should be able to fit everything into one carry-on bag."

"What?!"

"Did you know that out of every two hundred people flying, one person's luggage gets lost or misdirected?"

"One in two hundred?" That took him aback a little.

"Uh-huh. That's bye-bye Prada shoes, bye-bye Armani suit." He could tell that had gotten through. "But if you want to bring all this stuff and risk it being lost or sent to Walla Walla Washington, we'll have to take a bigger suitcase and check it."

"Fine."

Justin waited.

"One carry-on bag," he grumbled.

Justin kissed him. "You'll live, trust me. And if you color coordinate, you can have up to sixty different outfits. More than enough for a month."

Under his breath, Brian muttered, "Asshole." He hated it when Justin was right about petty shit.

"What was that?"

In his best falsetto, he replied, "Nothing, dear."

So Justin helped Brian reduce his travel wardrobe down to six pairs of pants (including the ones he'd be wearing on the plane), ten tops (ditto) and one suit which he promised the man he'd be able to fit inside a standard carry-on bag. Tomorrow. They were both too tired tonight and they had to leave for the party soon. When they were done putting back the clothes Brian would leave home, Justin could have sworn he saw a tear in his eye. Kissing him gently, Justin teased him promising him they'd be there when he got back.

As he slipped away, Brian smacked him on the butt and felt much better. And Justin's ass didn't feel bad either. 

 

"Let's hear your itinerary again," Vic prompted and Justin recited it from memory for the small group which included his mom and Deb.

"First we're flying to London and then Rome and then we're taking a train to Naples for a day, spending another couple of days in Rome, then taking the train to Florence, and from Florence we're going to Venice and while we're there we're taking a day trip to Milan by train. Then we fly to Barcelona, stay a few days and take the train to Madrid. We go from Madrid by train to Bilbao, and fly from there to Paris, and come back home on the eighteenth." It exhausted him just saying all of that much less doing it.

"Oh, it sounds fabulous, Sunshine," Deb told him. "You'll love Italy."

"You'll love the food," promised Vic.

"And the art," his mom added.

"Brian swore we could go to as many museums as I wanted."

Across the room, Lindsay asked, "Did you?"

"Yeah," he replied feigning being put-out by it. "It was the only way I was going to get a day in Milan."

"Mecca for the fashionistas," teased Ted.

"Every label queen should make at least one pilgrimage to Milan during his lifetime," Mel explained.

"The Prada Homeland," said Mikey.

Jeff laughed. "I hear they make you take your shoes off inside the store. Holy ground. Unless you're wearing Prada already."

"And what else would you wear?" Mikey commented as if it were foolish to assume otherwise.

"Ask him how many pairs he's taking," said Justin.

"How many?"

"Not nearly enough," complained Brian. "One pair of Prada boots, one pair of Zegna, and my Miu Mius."

"Poor baby," said Lindsay patting his arm.

As if he could barely contain his joy, he boasted, "But I'm getting a new pair of shoes on the trip. And a new suit."

Everyone laughed, he was so happy.

Gus tottered over from where he had been playing with Molly and Daphne, who was home for the summer and back from her own vacation in Florida. "Dadda."

Brian picked the baby up. "What?" Gus kissed him sloppily the way he always did and Brian laughed. "Least we've got a few years yet to work on your technique."

"Dadda. Dadda, go." He wanted to ride with Brian in the Jeep; he loved it. "Car, Dadda." Car was one of the words he knew quite well. He could say juice but Jeep seemed to elude him, sometimes he'd get out Je but the 'p' was rarely pronounced. As for Justin, with its st combination, it also seemed to be a word he couldn't quite master; although they all suspected he could probably say Jusin, he just didn't.

"Not today, Sonny Boy." He shook his head and smooched the toddler. "When Dadda gets back. Promise. Just you, me, Pooh, and Beh."

Despite evidence to the contrary, the guys still couldn't believe that Brian was actually a good father. Two more miracles and he'd qualify for sainthood. Or maybe just one, the other miracle being him and Justin period.

Lindsay frowned a little. "I don't know how I’m going to explain why he can't see you, especially for a whole month."

"Luckily he has no concept of time," explained Mel. "A day, a month, a week, it's all the same to him."

"Still, he's going to miss Brian and Justin and he won't understand why they're gone. So you'd better call," Lindsay warned.

"We'll call," promised Justin and he came over and kissed Gus too. The baby squealed and demanded Justin hold him.

Brian, freed for the moment, went over and sat next to Daphne and Molly, members of the Straight Girls for Brian Kinney Fan Club as Justin called them. "Well, ladies, what can I bring you back from Europe?"

"A Lippizaner," said Molly without hesitation. She definitely had a thing for horses.

"Might be hard to fit into my carry-on."

Molly giggled. "A model, silly."

"Oh…"

Watching them, Jenn told Deb and Vic, "I heard her talking to her little friends the other day and she was showing them a picture of Brian and Justin. Well, one of them asked her who Brian was and she said, " Jenn paused and smiled, "she told them Brian was her brother's husband."

Deb and Vic cracked up. "I guess he is," said Deb. "Or as close as he's ever going to get to having one."

Vic said, "Molly would have made the perfect flower girl," and the three older adults laughed again, just envisioning it.

Since Daphne hadn't answered his question, Brian prompted her. "And what about my favorite co-ed?"

Sulking a little, she replied, "How about a gorgeous, new, Italian boyfriend."

"What happened to your old one?"

"Jerk." She rolled her eyes. Guys. Who could trust them? That's why she was never getting married. Better to be free to drop 'em as soon as they showed their true colors which was invariably a lovely shade of asshole.

"Ah," he said knowingly. "I'll see what I can do."

"Brian?" asked Molly.

"Yeah?"

She smiled sweetly, a lower wattage version of Justin's. "Could you be my boyfriend?"

"What about Justin?" he asked, amused.

"We could share." After all, her mom was always telling her to share with others.

Only, the adults paused, all of them aware of what had happened between Brian and Justin and Xavier.

Quietly, Brian said, "I don't think… I don't think Justin would want to share," he told her and then he rose and padded out the front door. Wandered about the Munchers' front yard waiting for Justin to come out.

The teen did and kicked at the ground absent-mindedly. "I'm kinda glad we don't have a lawn. I hate cutting grass."

"Yeah." But he knew the real reason Justin had come out and the real question. "I'm all right." He chuckled. "It's funny that's all. How it catches you when you're not looking."

"I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am."

"You don't have to." Brian smiled and the sight of it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Fuck it. We're flying to Europe tomorrow and nothing's going to ruin it." They kissed and as they parted, Brian saw his mother pull up in her car. In his dad's car, to be exact. She'd hardly driven it when he was alive but now that he was dead, she'd taken to tooling around town in it. Brian waved, as did Justin, and they stayed outside until she'd gotten out and walked up the pavement.

With a kiss for her son and a nod for Justin, she handed Brian the cake she'd made. "I hope I'm not too late," she said, touching the nape of her neck nervously.

"Perfect timing," Justin said, holding the door open for her and Brian.

Throughout the rest of the evening Joanie watched the two lovers for signs of any lingering problems and could detect none. When she had a chance she drew Deb aside and asked, "Do you know what happened?"

"You mean with Xavier?"

"Brian said that Justin had fallen in love with someone else but that it was over."

Realizing he hadn't told her the whole story and with good reason, Deb didn't bother to enlighten her. "It is. Thank God. I don't know how but they worked it out. I'm proud of 'em."

Joanie hesitated before speaking. "I never said 'Thank you.' "

"For what?"

"For being there when he needed someone. I… I know I wasn't much of a mother to him sometimes…"

"It's never too late," said Debbie.

Joanie watched Justin come up behind Brian and wrap his arms around his waist, lay his head upon his back. Without acknowledging his presence, Brian continued talking to Ted and Mikey but there was a slight difference in his demeanor. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly but she knew Justin had done that, just by touching him. "I'm glad he has Justin."

"I'm glad they've got each other. I don't think either one of them would be here if it hadn't been for the other one."

Around Gus' bed time, the two guests of honor excused themselves and carried the toddler upstairs for his bath. It was the last time they'd see him for a month.

As he bathed his son, squeezing warm water over his back, the baby giggling and trying to pull his hair, Brian suddenly cupped Gus' cheek and looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in a long while. He was growing up right before their eyes. In a little less than two months he'd be two years old. The terrible twos. And if Gus had inherited anything else from Brian other than his hair, eyes, and mouth, they were all going to be in for it. Big time. He laughed softly. "I'm gonna miss him."

"Me too," said Justin. "I can't wait until he's older and we can take him with us."

"And he can have his own room," Brian said, thinking of all the great sex they'd have to forgo if he slept in theirs.

At that moment, Gus splashed in the water, splattering the both of them.

"Gus!" Brian moved away and dabbed at the shirt with a towel. "Remind me to take my shirt off the next time we bathe him."

Justin slipped his hand between the buttons. "Okay."

"Not in front of the minor," he warned.

"Pooh!"

"What?"

"Dadda, Pooh." Which was Gus' way of saying, 'Kiss him.' So Justin did. And the baby clapped his hands.

"See? He approves."

"I think we've got a future sex fiend on our hands."

As Brian returned to take the baby out of his bath, Justin asked, "Are we surprised?" 

 

He lay in bed contented, the source of his contentment asleep on his chest. Friday morning they'd be in Heathrow Airport waiting to go through Customs. His first trip abroad, really abroad, if you didn't count Mexico and Canada and the Caribbean. A year ago when he'd made the off-hand promise to Justin, he hadn't really thought they'd go. But after their magical trip to the Bahamas it'd begun to seem possible and after New Year's Day it'd become something they had to do, a postponed honeymoon of sorts. In April he hadn't been sure of anything, much less of a trip abroad but he'd earmarked the money for it and hadn't spent it, hoping that things would change between them but not entirely convinced that they would. With Xavier out of the picture in May, the trip had seemed possible again and he'd gotten Cynthia right on it, making reservations and setting up itineraries, and then everything fell apart and he hadn't believed he'd make it one more night much less survive to go to Europe in two months. But he had. He and Justin had come through it all still together, more committed to their relationship and to one another than ever before because now they understood just what was at stake: their very lives.

Tightening his hold on Justin, Brian closed his eyes and dreamt of the Eiffel Tower. 

 

Even though Brian had opted to go to work on Thursday (more to please Ryder than anything else) Justin had taken the day off needing to run some errands and to take care of last minute details for the trip. He also had the checklist of things Cynthia had drawn up for them and it was his job to make sure they had accounted for everything on it. So he drove Brian to his building, kissed him, and made plans to be back at four thirty to pick him up so that they could go get Mikey and head for the airport. Brian dropped off, Justin went to get Daphne: they were spending the day together, her keeping him company while he did the hundred things that needed to be done before their flight that evening.

She was waiting in the driveway when he arrived at her house. Sliding in, she asked, "What's first?"

First thing on the agenda was to go home and make sure they had everything on Cynthia's list. If not, they'd have time to go out and get it or to take care of it. Mikey had promised to come by and check on things since he was keeping the Jeep but they still needed to make arrangements for the paper to stop delivery temporarily and for the maid not to come again after Friday. Although they'd told her a week ago, he called her just to remind her.

"So why don't you leave some of this stuff for her to do?"

"She's doing the laundry and cleaning up and taking out the trash. Besides, I don't mind."

The building super was charged with putting their mail in a bin to keep until they returned. Daphne watched as Justin went through the bills to make sure Brian had written checks for all the ones that weren't automatically deducted from his account. They would go to Cynthia with a note reminding her when to mail each one off.

Since Michael wasn't certain to come over every day, Justin and Daphne put the lamps on a timer so that the place would look lived in. After fixing the lights, they went around and unplugged most of the other appliances. Fire hazards. That done, the two teens checked the fridge, tossing anything that would go bad while Brian and Justin were away. Luckily, their refrigerator was generally pretty bare so that didn't take long.

"What time are you guys leaving?"

"Seven fifty-five. There's a layover at JFK."

"And then it's how long?"

"Not quite seven hours. We're getting into Heathrow at eleven thirty tomorrow morning their time."

The refrigerator cleaned, they turned to the things on the list that the two men needed to take on their trip. Although he'd sworn not to do any work on their vacation, Brian was taking his laptop, so Justin packed it in its case and made sure the battery pack was in there too.

Next, they went through the checklist, with Daphne reading off the items while Justin made sure they had them before he packed everything.

He laid their carry-on bags on the bed and opened them both. Removed the two organizers from inside, one larger than the other.

"Those are all the bags you're taking?"

"Yeah. It's called packing light. I found it on a web site. You put all of your underwear and belts and ties and shit in the organizer and then the organizer goes inside the carry-on so you only have one bag to take with you."

"And you're going to get all this," she held up the list, "in there?"

"Yep. We're dividing up the stuff we both use plus I'm carrying some of it in my backpack."

"What about gifts?"

"Mailing them. It's easier that way."

"You must not be taking a lot of clothes." Which amazed her because Brian was a clothes horse.

Justin pointed to the two stacks of clothes. "Six pairs of pants and ten shirts apiece plus one suit each. And three pairs of shoes."

Daphne glanced at the organizers, the clothes, and then the carry-on bags. "All in there? No way."

"I'm using the bundle method. Found it on the web too. Watch and learn."

With Daphne going down the list, Justin made sure he had each item and divided everything up into three areas: the things that would go into his carry-on bag, the things that would go into his backpack, and the things that would go into Brian's carry-on bag.

Pausing at one of the items, handwritten among the typed ones, Daphne frowned. "Toys and batteries?"

Justin blushed. "Yeah," he replied and reached for a discreetly bundled item to put on Brian's pile.

"What kind of toys?"

His blush deepened. "You know…"

Understanding blossomed. "Oh! Oh…"

"We have sex a lot," he explained. "You need a little variety."

"You're not afraid of someone opening that up and seeing?"

Justin sighed. "I think Brian's hoping someone will."

Daphne giggled and continued down the list.

After he had made sure that everything was on the bed and in one of three piles, he began to pack the organizers.

"Those are so cool," Daphne said as he put their shower things and shaving kits and socks and underwear and assorted miscellaneous items (including the toys, a sewing kit, sun block, vitamins, his allergy medicine, mini umbrellas, travelers raincoats that folded up inside a plastic bag and a first aid kit) into the clear pockets of the organizers.

"My mom bought them as going away gifts," he told her. "They're neat because you can hang them up once you get to the hotel and see everything inside them. I'm carrying the big one in my bag and Brian's got the smaller one because his camera has to go in his suitcase too." After he finished packing the organizers, he rolled them up and put them inside the carry-ons and fitted Brian's camera case inside his as well. Then he arranged their shoes around the edges of the suitcase with the soles touching the sides.

"What about your clothes?"

"They go on top of the organizers." He picked up a pair of Brian's pants. "See? You make sure everything is zipped up and buttoned and then you put the pants in the long way, with the waistband up against the edge of the suitcase. Then you just layer the next pair in the opposite direction." After he'd done the long pants, he put the two pairs of shorts on top. Then he started with the shirts. "The shirts go in widthwise. You put the collar against the side and let the tail hang out. And you alternate them too." He continued until he'd placed all of the shirts in the suitcase. "Then you just bundle everything." He took the tail and the sleeves of the shirt that was second from the top and folded it over the top shirt. Then he folded the top shirt's tail and sleeves over that one. Once he'd formed his first bundle, he continued to fold the clothes over each other until he'd finished. "The suit goes in last," he explained, and he formed a bundle of it too: jacket first with the collar against the back edge of the suitcase, the pants on top of it with the waistband up against the side, then he folded the tail of the jacket up over the pants and then the pants' legs last over the jacket. That done, he strapped everything in. "Finished. It's efficient and it cuts down on wrinkles because you're not making creases in anything."

Amazed that all of those clothes and the organizer and the camera had fit into that one bag, Daphne gave Justin a round of applause. "You're like the Martha Stewart of Pittsburgh."

"Before or after the scandal?" Having done Brian's bag, he turned to his own and repeated his performance, putting the travel pillows, pens, notebooks, his small sketchpad and colored pencils, sightseeing information, and the maps inside his backpack and packing his clothes into the carry-on suitcase. Again, Daphne was impressed.

"What was the name of that web site again?"

Then they went over the documents' checklist: passport, photocopies of their passports, the Customs registration papers for Brian's computer and camera and his CD player and both their watches and cellphones, emergency information, hotel reservations, Eurorail passes to use in Italy and Spain, underground passes for London and Paris, and plane tickets. Both Lindsay and Michael had copies of their itineraries and the numbers of the hotels where they were staying on their trip in case they fell off the face of the earth.

"Travelers cheques in American dollars…" He counted them to make sure he had the right amount. "Cheques in British Pounds… Brian's got the credit cards and the ATM card..." he said, talking more to himself than to her.

"What about yours?"

"Daph, I have like thirty bucks in my checking account."

"So Brian's paying for everything?"

"Well, my mom and dad helped pay for the plane ticket and they gave me five hundred dollars to spend, so I paid for some of the travelers cheques but, yeah, he's paying for everything else."

"You are so lucky," she told Justin. "I mean, it's really--I don’t know… amazing that you're with him."

"Yeah, I know," he said, less than enthusiastically.

"Justin?" she asked, noticing the change.

He shook his head. "I almost ruined everything."

Xavier. "But you didn't. You guys are still together. And you're going to Europe."

She didn't understand. How could she? "No, I mean…" He didn't know if he should tell her but he had to tell someone because it was eating him up inside. "I almost lost him, Daph."

"You mean, Brian was thinking about breaking up?" It'd be unbelievable if he hadn't. After all, a threesome? Maybe for some people but Brian? She still found it hard to believe that her best friend had been involved in an alternative alternative relationship.

Brian had effectively ended their relationship by taking off his ring but that wasn't what he was talking about. "Daph," he paused, "he was…" God, it was so hard to say. "He was thinking about killing himself."

She was stunned. Speechless. If anyone else had said that, she wouldn’t have believed them. Brian didn't seem the type. But Justin knew and if he said Brian had thought about suicide, then it was true. "Why?"

"Because of everything I'd done to him."

"Justin, no."

"It's true." He looked away, the tears having begun. "Me and Cam. We both hurt him so much."

"But Cam's dead."

"It doesn't matter." Justin wiped his eyes but the tears continued. "It--it was eating him up inside, all the things we did to him. I almost lost him, Daph. And I don't know what I would have done…"

She hugged him. "It's okay. He didn't. Because you saved him, right?"

"I was so scared. I've never been so scared in my life. Not even when I woke up in the hospital after Chris Hobbs hit me."

"But Brian's okay now."

"He almost wasn’t. And he still has to see Dr. Drew."

"Which is good."

"What if he had—"

"Listen," she told him, shaking him a little. "Listen. You guys are going on the best vacation ever. And you're gonna have a blast. A lot better than my lame-ass vacation with my parents." Justin laughed, having heard about that fiasco. "And you'll have a whole month to make it up to him."

"I swear I will."

"And then you'll come back home and you'll have a whole lifetime to make things better."

He smiled. "I can do that."

"See?" She tapped her forehead. "Genius. That'll cost you lunch."

"It's a lot less than what Brian pays for Drew, so I guess it's a good deal."

Daphne laughed. "The best deal. Trust me." 

 

Hoping Justin would remember to bring the bills when he came to pick him up, Brian tried to focus on the meeting he was in but it was almost impossible. He didn't really give a shit about this new account because he wouldn't be here to lay the groundwork for the initial campaign. By the time he got back, they'd have already put things into motion and the most he'd be able to do would be to wait until the numbers came back and analyze the data to see if the campaign was effective. If not, then he'd be able to work something up. Which was why he was in this boring meeting. On the off chance that he'd have to come back and work his magic.

Sitting next to him at the table, Cynthia could tell that as far as he was concerned, he was already on the plane to London.

After the meeting, he strolled back to his office intending to dump the few notes he'd taken so that he could walk down the street to find some lunch. Michael was waiting for him. "Hey, what's up?"

"I just wanted to see you before you left for a month."

"You'll be seeing me in five hours when you go with us to the airport."

"I thought we could have lunch."

A euphemism for 'I thought we could talk.' He tossed his legal pad on his desk. "Cool."

Buying a couple of sandwiches at a nearby deli, they took them back to his office and sat at his desk eating.

"So, everything's okay with Justin?" He had to do this carefully. Brian was liable to explode if he didn't approach him in just the right way. Being Brian's friend was sometimes like being on the bomb squad: you never knew when something was going to blow up in your face.

"Yeah." He reached for his soda. "Everything's fine."

"You paused."

"It was really tough, you know?"

"You never said what happened."

Brian closed his eyes momentarily. "No. I didn't."

"And Justin treats you like you were made of glass. Like he's afraid of breaking you."

"Mikey—"

Here it goes. "You thought about killing yourself, didn’t you?" Brian looked up, startled. "Just like before. With Cam."

It took a moment before he could speak. "How did you know?"

He could still see it. "I went to the bathroom, remember, when I came over to see you? I saw the two bottles of sleeping pills, Brian. And I saw the pictures of you and Cam that you'd torn up and put in the trash. I saw the one you'd burned. It was your favorite picture of the two of you. Why do you think I hung around for so long that night?" He'd been scared to death of leaving, of coming back over and finding Brian dead. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Brian blinked back tears. "I didn't want to drag you into it."

"I'm your best friend. You should have told me."

"You were always taking care of me."

"That's not true. We took care of each other."

"You more than me. And all I ever did was fuck things up for you."

"Brian, you didn't mess things up between me and David." When would he ever believe that? "We did that all on our own. I wasn't ready to make a commitment to him. Even if Justin hadn't gotten hurt, we would have broken up eventually. It wasn't meant to be."

"What about Jeff?"

"I like Jeff. A lot." Jeff was… special to him. "But we're taking it slow. We're enjoying ourselves. Besides, I think you and Justin have the Heathcliff and Cathy Award for Torrid Romances sewn up this year."

"Fuck you."

"What made you stop?"

"I didn't want you to blame yourself. I couldn't do that to you."

"No. This time."

"Justin and Drew." He hesitated, unsure if he should confess so much but needing to. Unable to sit any longer, he walked away from the desk. "I almost didn't make it. If Drew hadn't come in when he did… I would have done it, Mikey, with Justin lying asleep in the other room. And even after, while Drew and I were talking, all I kept thinking was that I hoped he'd leave so I could finish it before Justin woke up. Because I couldn't see it, Mikey, I couldn't see past that moment."

"But you didn't."

"Because of Justin."

"He talk you out of it?"

"No." Justin had understood, they had run out of words. "He gave me a choice: live with him or die in his arms." He thought of the boy's words, 'You have to decide.' "He would have done it, Mikey. If I had asked him to."

"And then he would have killed himself." That much was clear to him among so much that wasn't.

"Maybe." He didn't like thinking about that, still couldn't admit it even to himself, that he'd held Justin's life in his hands as well. Because he had been so close to throwing it all away. Except that he hadn't been able to in the end. Because of Justin. "He's so strong. He's the strongest person I know."

"You're strong too. To go through the things you have… Brian…" Michael stood and hugged Brian to him. Whispered in his ear. "Go to Europe, have a fabulous time sightseeing, and clubbing, and fucking Justin every night…" Brian laughed. "And then come back home and have a wonderful life." They parted and he stared into Brian's eyes. "Okay?"

He nodded, too emotional to speak. Michael kissed him and wiped away the tears that remained. 

 

He was leaning over his desk, fiddling with some papers with his back to the door, when he felt someone enter. Not just someone. Justin. Turning, he asked, "You give 'em to her?" Meaning the bills.

"She entered it on her online calendar when she's supposed to mail off each one. She's efficient. You should pay her more." Brian grunted and took the clothes Justin handed to him. He would have to change in his office, then leave his suit with Mikey and the Jeep and hope that his best friend would remember to take it to the loft and hang it up. Whose idea was it anyway for him to leave for the airport directly from the office? He'd just gotten his shoes back on when Justin slipped into his arms. Intending it to be a brief kiss, they found themselves still engaged when Cynthia barged through the door.

"Would you go already?"

Parting from Justin and rummaging through some folders on his desk, Brian asked, "You've got a copy of the itinerary?"

"Yes."

"Which you won't use unless it's an emergency," Justin instructed. Meaning Alan Rickman and his crew of Euro trash terrorists had taken over the building and Brian was the only one who could stop them.

"Right." Cynthia came around and took Brian's papers from him. "I'll put everything away. Now, go. Have a good time." She handed him his briefcase.

"All right. I'm going." He kissed her on the cheek. "See you next month."

Justin bussed her too. "Bye."

"Have a great time," she said wiggling her fingers. Whispered loudly, "Perfume."

They made it downstairs and to the Jeep in record time, only having to stop once to pick up another passenger on the elevator. As Justin drove, Brian checked his leather jacket for his passport and the folder with most of their travelers' cheques in it. Both items were there.

As they pulled up to the Big Q, Justin climbed into the back. Michael got in and they were off.

Giving Brian and Justin unnecessary (since Cynthia and Justin both had done in-depth research on the topic) advice about places to eat, things to do in Paris, Michael negotiated the highway and traffic to ferry the two lovers safely to the airport.

As Justin got their bags out of the back, Brian told Michael, "Hang up my suit would you?"

"All right. I'll hang it up."

"And don’t leave my briefcase out in the Jeep."

"I won't." He gave them each a hug. "Have a safe trip."

"We will," replied Justin.

"And have a blast."

"That too," promised the teen.

Hugging Brian, Michael told him, "Remember what I said."

Brian pecked him on the lips. "I will. Later."

"And email me, would you?"

Watching Michael pull away, Brian and Justin grabbed their stuff and joined the people at the security checkpoint. It was moving relatively quickly and within ten minutes they were at the head of the line. Providing their driver's licenses and tickets, they passed through the doorway and into the terminal itself. Justin spotted the sign directing them to their gate. They were taking an American Eagle flight to JFK and then transferring to an American Airlines 777 Boeing jet for Heathrow.

Arriving at their gate, they checked in, then took a seat to wait for their flight to start boarding.

Although the flight from New York to London had service for dinner, a snack, and breakfast, more than likely they'd be asleep, after all the plane didn't leave JFK until eleven thirty. And Brian hated eating meals after ten. So Justin had stopped and picked up a couple of sandwiches at the diner. Besides, it had given him a last chance to say goodbye to Deb. "Hungry?" he asked Brian.

"Starving." The sandwich he'd eaten at lunch had long gone.

So, waiting for their flight, they shared a simple dinner of kettle chips, turkey club sandwiches, and orange soda. "Can you imagine all the great food we're going to have on the trip?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. I'll be in the gym every morning trying to work it off."

Justin pinched Brian's waist through his sweater. He could barely catch hold of him, he was so slender. "You need fattening up. You're too skinny."

Looking down at himself, Brian said, "I've been the same weight for the past six years and it hasn't hurt me yet."

"You could stand to gain a pound or two."

"Enough of the gaining weight talk," Brian demanded, "and let me eat my food in peace. No wonder I'm skinny. You worry me to death." And even though he'd meant it as a joke, it fell a little flat. He could feel Justin tensing up next to him. "Baby—I didn't mean anything by it."

Subdued, Justin replied, "I know." He put his sandwich aside, what was left of it but Brian picked it up and put it back in his hands.

"We're not gonna do this. We're not going to spend our entire trip apologizing for the past. It's in the past. So we let it go and move the fuck on. Now, eat." He leaned in close. "We want to keep your ass nice and plump."

Smiling through the sniffles, Justin said, "Yes, sir," and continued eating. 

 

Before they knew it, the gate attendants were boarding First Class. Picking up their stuff, they proceeded to the podium and produced their tickets and passes.

Settled in, they waited for the rest of the passengers to board and as the people in Coach tramped by, Brian frowned and Justin was doubly glad they weren't back there or he was sure there'd have been trouble.

Teasing Brian, he said, "You are such a snob."

"Elitist."

Although the flight was only an hour and twenty minutes, the cabin crew came around with the beverage cart. Justin declined to have anything but Brian ordered a bourbon on the rocks which the teen sipped from as well.

"Thought you didn't want anything?"

"Can't we share?"

Brian cocked an eyebrow. "So what are you going to share with me?"

Justin kissed him sweetly. "There. That good enough?"

"Perfect," answered Brian as he stole another.

The rest of the flight was uneventful and soon the 'Fasten your seatbelts' sign came on again and they descended into New York City.

It seemed strange to look at the New York skyline without seeing the twin towers of the Trade Center and yet it seemed as if the city still stood beneath their shadows.

"We should come up here one weekend," Justin suggested and then he remembered that Brian and Cam had done New York and maybe Brian didn't want to retrace their steps with his new lover.

"We already have," Brian reminded him.

Justin blushed although he was happy Brian didn't seem saddened by the suggestion. He still couldn't believe what a drama princess he'd been stealing Brian' credit card and running away to New York. "That wasn't really a sightseeing tour."

"Maybe we can come up for New Year's." The flight attendant opened the cabin door. Brian pushed all thoughts of Cam from his mind. At least he'd kept his features blank so that Justin wouldn’t worry.

"For our anniversary," Justin said as they walked through the tunnel leading to the terminal.

"We've got too many anniversaries," Brian complained. He pointed down the corridor to the right. That was the way to the gate for their connecting flight.

"One for when we first met," Gus' birthday, "and one for our commitment day."

"And what if we had an actual ceremony that wasn't on New Year's? That'd be three."

Justin found two seats in the corner of the waiting room where they'd be relatively out of the main traffic path. "Well, we don't have to worry about that cause we're not having a ceremony."

Even though he knew he was opening a can of worms by doing so, Brian asked, "You sure you don’t want one?"

"What? A ceremony? Yeah right," he laughed. "And next you'll tell me I've won a Guggenheim Fellowship."

"If you could, would you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe." It'd be ridiculously romantic, him and Brian exchanging vows. _Dream on._ "But it doesn’t matter because we are committed. With or without the ceremony."

With a wait that was longer than their first flight, the two men settled down to their separate pursuits: Justin playing his Game Boy and Brian going through his CD of Paris that Justin had given him for his birthday. His camera was going to get a good workout on this trip. Losing himself in the streets of Montmartre, he didn't hear the boarding announcement. Justin nudged him. "They're about to start." So he shut down his computer and got out his ticket again.

By the time the plane took off, Brian and Justin were getting more than a little drowsy. It'd been a long day for both of them. Checking with one of the attendants regarding dinner, they opted out and snagged a couple of pillows instead. Brian took the window seat and leaned up against the side of the cabin while Justin snuggled up to his back and side, one arm around his waist.

Looking at them, the First Class attendant thought she'd never seen anything cuter, the way Justin curled into Brian's body and the way Brian pillowed Justin's body. Too bad they were gay though. Could have had a good time with either of them. The older one was hot as hell. And the younger one was as cute as he could be, like an angel almost. _Oh well…_

Despite thinking they wouldn't be able to sleep all night cramped in their seats, they did, and woke to find themselves an hour outside of London. Changing seats once more, they did accept some breakfast when the attendant came around and wolfed down a bagel and a bowl of cereal each as well as several cups of coffee. After making an obligatory trip to the little boys' room. By the time they'd finished eating, the plane had reached London. Eyes bright with excitement, Justin gazed out of the window as if he couldn't believe it. There. The whole city spread before him like a feast. He couldn't believe it. Not really. And said so.

So Brian pinched him. When he yelped, the man explained, "At least now you know you're not asleep."

"I knew that before," he replied, rubbing the spot although Brian hadn't pinched him hard.

Gathering their bags, they waited to disembark the plane. Not for the first time was Brian glad he'd listened to Justin about not bringing suitcases. After a quick stop (he hoped) at Passport Control and the Customs Hall, they were hopping the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station where they'd grab a cab to their hotel which was just a short ride away. Their hotel, the Montague on the Garden, offered shuttle service to and from the hotel but it was actually quicker and cheaper to use the Express. Besides, Justin was all hyped up about riding the train. Kids. 

 

Customs had taken longer than they'd expected, the agents going through their bags with a thoroughness that dismayed Justin after he'd gone to all the trouble to carefully pack their bags. And there'd been a sticky moment when they'd asked Brian to unravel the package in his organizer and he'd done so to reveal the vibrator in all of its glory along with a string of anal beads. Justin didn't know who was more embarrassed: him, or the agent, or the people around them. Brian, however, didn't seem to mind a bit.

At last they cleared Customs and found the train. But it went so quickly, Justin felt like they'd hardly boarded it before they were at Paddington Station and looking for a taxi. Which was probably a good thing as he was getting tired of lugging around his bags and wanted to stretch out on a bed for at least ten minutes before they started day one of their London adventure. Still, he was glued to the window of the cab taking in the sights as they drove to the Montague.

Where they found out that they were a half hour early and couldn't check in until two. Leaving their stuff with the concierge, they decided to visit the American Express Travel office and exchange some of their travelers cheques for pounds. Not a lot, just enough to pay for incidentals. They'd gotten a package deal with the hotel that came with tickets to the local museums and Brian intended to pay by credit card for most of their expensive meals, using cash only for lunch, and getting around when they took taxis or the bus instead of the tube, and cheap gifts.

It was mostly cloudy but even an overcast sky couldn't dampen Justin's sprits. He was in London! Stepping out of the hotel onto Montague Street, he stared at the British Museum. They weren't going to visit it until Tuesday, their last day in the city, but he felt excited just looking at the building. They walked around it to Great Russell Street where the main entrance was.

I should have brought the camera," said Brian.

"It's packed away."

He looked down the street. "There's the office."

Fifteen minutes later they had about two hundred pounds divided between them and set off for the hotel again to check-in.

If any of the hotel staff were surprised or shocked to see the two of them together, they didn't show it. From the doorman to the front desk clerks, everyone maintained an air of professionalism and behaved with the utmost courtesy. Maybe, Brian thought, the world is changing.

As they followed the bellboy to their room, Justin gazed around him. It was a beautiful hotel, filled with flowers; they seemed to be everywhere. Which was probably going to drive his allergies crazy but it was a price he'd have to pay to stay in such a fabulous hotel. He couldn't wait until the bellboy left to show Brian his appreciation for finding the place.

The room was decorated quite nicely in tasteful, pale yellow floral patterns that echoed the hotel's décor. Although it wasn't as large as their room in the Bahamas, it would more than do. Especially since there was a tub in the bathroom big enough for two.

Maybe it was the way they both looked longingly at the king-sized bed or maybe it was the way they politely ignored his spiel but the bellboy cut his tour of the rooms short and wished them a pleasant stay. Brian tipped him and showed him the door, nearly running to join Justin on the bed. The teen had already claimed possession of it, taking up an impossible amount of space. Still, there was room enough for Brian, especially if he curled up around him.

Justin turned in his arms and nestled into Brian's chest. Nuzzled his throat. "Do we have to go out?"

"You're the one with the agenda, not me."

It was true. Justin had planned all of their activities and if they wanted to eat lunch and get to Madam Tussaud's before it closed, they had to get a move on. Rolling off the bed, he held out his hand. Pulled Brian up. They kissed then unpacked their clothes and hung them and the organizers in the closet. Ducked into the bathroom to brush their teeth, grabbed Brian's camera, Justin's backpack with their umbrellas inside, and were out of there.

Brian having seen a review of a nearby restaurant in the New York Times, they headed for 8 Hanway Place and Hakkasan. Making their way down a dark alley, they would have wondered if they'd gotten the wrong address except that the article had warned them to expect that. Descending a dark staircase, they went inside where they were greeted by the hostess who led them through the bar area past cobalt-blue neon-lit, translucent panels to a table in the corner of the main dining room. Taking note of the number of people in there, they figured they were lucky to have been seated without a reservation.

"They're supposed to serve some of the best dim sum in the city," Brian told Justin. "And the interior was done by Christian Liaigre. Karl Largerfield and Calvin Klein swear by him." He looked around approvingly at the blue walls and the dark wood-carved panels; and was taken by the Chinese slate on the floor, the pale blue leather seats, and cool lighting. "I could see something like this in the loft."

"Maybe you could hire him," Justin said innocently.

Brian laughed out loud. "How much money do you think I make?"

Studying the prices on the menu, Justin asked, "Is it okay? I mean, can you afford this?"

"The prices aren't that bad. We won't have to do the dishes this time," he joked.

"No." Justin laid down his menu. "I mean this trip. It's pretty expensive. I…"

"Don't worry, baby. That's what bonuses are for." He smiled widely. "Harris is paying for everything."

"Yeah, but you had to do the work first."

"It's my job. It's not like I worked any harder than I usually do," Brian explained.

"You work too hard," scolded Justin.

"If you wanna make partner before your hair starts to fall out, you have to." Discussion over in his opinion, Brian studied the menu.

"Brian?"

He looked up. He should have known it wasn't over. Not with Justin.

"Maybe I should have gotten a real job this summer."

"And how would you have explained needing to take a month off?"

"We could have taken a shorter trip."

He shrugged. "No point."

"I don't want to feel like… like a freeloader."

"I'll take it out in trade," he grinned.

"Brian—"

"Don't worry about the money." He raised an eyebrow. "Now, can I please look at the menu without any further interruptions?"

Justin nodded, not entirely pleased by Brian's answers but knowing that it was pointless to continue badgering him when he'd made it clear he didn't want to talk about something, he put it out of his mind for the moment and concentrated on the menu as well.

Appetites whet by the plates of dim sum on other people's tables they, nevertheless, restrained themselves and ordered a modest amount of food: chive dumplings, rice pastry strips, crab and ginger fishcakes, char sui buns, and fried mango spring rolls with prawns and scallops. Delicate, delicious, and just the thing to take the edge off their hunger without filling them up.

In and out in an hour, they headed for Madame Tussaud's by way of Gower Street, past the University of London. Although they didn't have time just then, they promised themselves a more thorough tour later in their trip. Still, Justin was thrilled as they passed the ornate buildings and immaculate greens.

"IFA doesn’t look anything like this," he said enviously.

"Yeah, but they don't have anything like you," Brian told him and the teen smiled and all was right with the world. For the moment.

It didn't take long to walk to the Euston Square station and hop the first train they saw heading towards Baker Street. From there it was a short walk down the block to the museum. There was a line for tickets but they'd gotten theirs as a part of the hotel package so there was no wait except to get into the exhibits themselves.

Meandering through the different areas they mingled with both common and uncommon folk, finding themselves standing next to Samuel L. Jackson, Arnold Schwarzenneger, Napoleon, Elvis, Eddie Murphy, Bill Clinton, and Vlad the Impaler (better known as Dracula). Although all of the figures were impressive—("They have to insert each hair individually," Justin said. "Bet they loved Michael Jordan," Brian replied.)-- both of them agreed that some were better than others. For example, the Jerry Hall resembled her a lot more than the Mohammad Ali did his namesake.

"Says something about her, don’t you think?" Brian asked.

"I liked her in Batman. 'You look fine,' " he purred.

And Brian supplied the Joker's line, drawling, " 'I didn't ask.' "

Like two kids, they enjoyed the Chamber of Horrors best, shivering with delight at the Jack the Ripper exhibition, complete with swirling fog, coming upon his hapless victims in dark alleys, much as he had, except that he'd been there first and done his bloody work.

Still, in time, the crowds began to annoy Brian and Justin figured he'd better get him out of there before some little kid got a kick in the ass. Having a child of his own had definitely not mellowed him towards anyone else's. So they skipped the tour of the planetarium and decided to go back to the hotel and rest a bit before dinner. 

 

The room was as welcoming as an old friend to two such weary travelers. Kicking off their shoes and stripping, the lovers crawled under the covers for a brief forty minute nap. Brian set the alarm and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew Justin was reaching over him to shut it off.

"Shit. I feel like I just went to sleep," he complained.

"Come on, old man," said Justin, "we gotta shower and get ready and you know how long it takes you to get ready."

Brian managed to pop Justin on the butt as he followed the teen to the bathroom.

Justin covered his cheeks with his hands. "Ow."

"Smart ass."

Justin groaned at the horrible pun. "Ha, ha."

The hot water felt heavenly after the long flight and their afternoon of sightseeing. Justin, ever on the lookout for opportunities to touch his man, washed Brian's back and hair. They'd both discovered this to be an enormous turn-on, irregardless of who was doing the washing and who was being serviced. As expected, the teen's hands wandered down Brian's torso and over his belly on its way to his groin but he man caught the boy's hand and held it.

"Uh-uh. Later."

Amazed and a little annoyed than Brian wasn't up for even a little fooling around, Justin rescinded his offer and went back to innocently soaping himself. Let Brian wash himself, he thought. And then Brian gave him a little peck below his ear the way he did when he was feeling affectionate.

"Later," he promised and Justin half-turned and they kissed.

"'kay."

Pied a Terre was within walking distance but they took a cab. After all, one didn't arrive at a Michelin star restaurant like Pied a Terre on foot despite its name.

Justin was glad he'd brought a couple of nice sweaters and some dress slacks along when he saw the rest of the clientele. Brian, of course, looked like he belonged there.

Keeping it light, they opted for a two-course meal—entrée and dessert—instead of three. Still, the food was magnificent: roasted sea bass with braised fennel and parmesan and fennel gnocchi, and roasted lamb with cumin scented eggplant puree and red pepper sauce. Once or twice during dinner they each caught the other with his eyes closed, savoring the mouthwatering food with something akin to rapture. And dessert was just as impressive: frommage blanc mousse with strawberry consommé and strawberry and frommage blanc sorbet for Brian and roasted baby bananas with praline sauce and butterscotch ice cream for Justin. Of course, they sampled one another's desserts as they had the main courses and agreed that the meal was money well-spent considering that they were going to pay a goodly amount for it.

As it was early yet when they left the restaurant, they did walk back to the hotel, affording them a night time look at the University as they walked up past the Goode Street station and along Gower until they reached the brightly lit museum. Sitting on the steps for a few moments, they savored the evening air.

"So," asked Brian, "you like it so far?"

"The trip or London?"

"Both."

"Yeah," he said shyly and Brian smiled. He loved it when Justin's boyish side emerged, when he could shuck all of his responsibilities and worries and just be a nineteen-year-old still finding out about the world and all that was in it. Despite his cynicism and his plethora of experiences, Brian was glad he'd decided to come along for this lifelong adventure. Even if he had done a lot of things, there was a great deal that he hadn't experienced. It was exciting and comforting to discover them with someone else. He couldn’t believe it sometimes, that he'd gotten a second chance at life while he was still young enough to enjoy it; and that he had an opportunity to see the world through Justin's eyes: full of curiosity and always willing to see the good before the bad. He put his arm around his partner's shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

"Hey."

"Hey," Justin replied.

"It's getting chilly."

Justin laughed and stood. "Let's go inside." He knew a hint when he heard one. Besides, he'd been looking at Brian all evening and wanting to get him out of those elegant clothes and into bed, into his arms.

Holding hands, they walked across the street to the hotel and fairly raced upstairs. For all of their hurrying you would have thought they'd be halfway out of their clothes by the time they reached their room. Instead, once inside, all sense of urgency dissipated. Calmly, they came together and kissed, Brian's hand at the nape of Justin's neck, brushing over the silky hairs there.

As they parted briefly, Justin asked, "How long has it been?"

"Too long," Brian answered and he lifted the teen in his arms and carried him to bed.

Uncovering him bit by bit, Brian showered his lover's body with kisses as Justin lay supine, eyes closed and lips parted. Brian grazed his throat from just below his jaw to the hollow, pausing to nuzzle his Adam's apple, eliciting a deep, "Mmm," from the teenager.

Off came the sweater and Brian continued his explorations, traveling the length of Justin's torso from his breastbone to his belly button. The boy sighed as Brian kissed his way down the center of his chest, the man's soft lips pursing around his nipples and spreading over his ribcage as if he wanted to devour his lover.

Down went the zipper on his trousers while Brian continued to kiss his way over his abdomen and around his waist. Shivering as his partner's hand slipped inside his slacks, Justin spread his thighs and raised his hips a little to press his groin against Brian's palm.

Justin's cock stirred beneath his hand and Brian squeezed him a little, just a taste of what was to come. Still, it was enough to start Justin moaning. And Justin moaning was enough to get Brian excited, even more excited than he'd been just kissing Justin's body. Removing his hand, he drew the teen's pants down around his ankles, then off completely. Justin's crotch was full, arousal already evident. Taking the opportunity to slow things down even more, Brian stood and stripped, aware of Justin's eyes on him, wanting him. God, it fucking gave him such a rush to know that Justin desired him, lusted after him, ached for him. He was aware of his own excitement mounting and wondered if he'd be able to resist just taking Justin without any further delay. Lazily, his lids drooped over his eyes and he licked his lips, cupping his cock, stroking it once or twice. His dick was growing harder and hungrier, and what it craved was Justin. Not just his plump behind or its tight little hole but his slender thighs and arms, his rosy nipples, blue eyes, and golden hair. Everything about him turned Brian on and he wanted all of him.

Leaving the bed, he fumbled through the organizer and took out the condoms and lube and one of the toys they'd brought. Hid it behind his back. "Close your eyes," he ordered as he returned to Justin's side. The teen obeyed, trusting Brian implicitly. That as well was immensely erotic, that he could do anything to Justin and the boy would not only tolerate it, he'd welcome it. He couldn't believe how well-matched they were sexually, how compatible, and that too got him all hot and bothered.

Brian tossed the condoms and lube on the bed next to Justin and knelt between his legs. The boy still had his eyes closed. Extending his arm, he stroked Justin's cock with the dildo he'd gotten out of the organizer. Justin groaned and turned his head to the side. His dick began to swell inside his briefs. "Like that?"

"Yes."

Again, this time more firmly, Brian rubbed him with the toy and watched his lover's neck and chest begin to redden as he got more and more aroused. Justin tried to stay still but the feel of the toy on his body was too much and he drew his knees up and gripped the bedspread beneath him, trying to ground himself. He could feel his cock throb and knew that soon he'd be dripping precum. God, he wanted that dildo in him. He could already feel it vibrating.

As if he'd read Justin's mind, Brian thumbed the dildo on and it began to vibrate against the teenager's dick, sending pulses through his body. His briefs were tented in front and he shuddered each time the vibrating toy rolled over his cockhead or his balls.

Upping the tension a little, Brian switched attention from Justin's crotch to his buttocks, specifically to his perineum and anus. Moving the dildo down between his thighs, he was rewarded with a loud groan and a convulsion on Justin's part. Brian moved so that he was directly over Justin, so that he could hear every moan, every breath, and he wasn’t disappointed. As he continued to tease the teen with the toy, Justin continued to jerk beneath him, a sheen of sweat glistening on his face and body, uttering cries that carried throughout the room. Cries that sent shivers up Brian's spine.

Pausing again, Brian encased the dildo in a condom and wet it with lube from tip to base. "Take 'em off," he told Justin and the teen removed his briefs, the front of them stained with precum. His cock bounced free and lay hard against his stomach. Without being told, he lifted his knees and held them to his chest, spread open, exposing his vulnerability.

Propped on one arm, Brian lay next to Justin and ran the dildo down his lover's body, from the hollow of his throat, between his pecs, along his sweet line, and over his cock. He paused just behind his balls and increased the level of vibration.

Justin gasped and squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck!" He was dizzy from need. And then the tip brushed over his hole and he shouted. Felt the muscles in his ass clench and release. "Do it," he begged. All he wanted was to feel his hole open around the hard, latex head.

But Brian teased him some more, rotating the vibrating tip against his hole, with just enough force to drive Justin crazy but not enough to penetrate him.

Justin grunted and willed his ass to open up and swallow the dildo whole. "Please…" His belly was wet with precum and all he wanted, all he wanted—"Yes! Oh! Oh…" he moaned as the dildo entered him. The solid tube of latex slipped through the tight ring of muscle with little resistance and inched towards his prostate.

Leaning over, Brian kissed him hard as he brought the dildo to bear on the nut-sized organ deep inside his lover. Justin shouted into his mouth and came. Brian held the toy in place as Justin shuddered and his cock continued to spit.

As his body emptied itself, Justin pressed against Brian, taking comfort from his strength, from his closeness.

The dildo sliding free, Brian removed the condom and tossed it in the wastepaper basket. Set the toy aside. Slipped on a condom and lubed himself. Wanting to take it slow, to build Justin's arousal again, Brian rolled his lover onto his side and entered him from behind. The room tilted and Brian held his breath. He hadn't realized how close he was. Holding still, he waited until the sensation passed, then continued to push forward.

Justin smiled. As good as the dildo had felt, this felt a thousand times better: his lover's cock slowly filling him. He could feel his insides expand to accommodate Brian and it amazed him, as always, that he had this ability to be filled to capacity and then some, as if there was no limit to what he could do.

One arm beneath their heads, the other holding Justin's leg up to keep him open, Brian and Justin made love leisurely. Whenever he felt himself getting too close to coming, Brian paused and waited it out until, at last, Justin began to grind his hips backwards, hard again, wanting Brian to fuck him harder. Still in him to the hilt, Brian eased Justin over onto his belly and supported himself on his arms, increasing the force of his thrusts.

Mouth open and saliva dripping on the pillow below him, Justin moaned as Brian pounded his ass until he felt that he would split open from the force. But he didn't. Because there was nothing Brian could do to him that he couldn't take.

Slamming into him a couple times more, Brian clenched his teeth and grunted. Fuck, that felt good. That had been building for two days now and it was a relief to be able to release it. "Ahh…" he breathed and collapsed onto Justin's back. He knew the teen hadn't gotten off yet but he needed a moment before he could move again, before he could think again. When he'd recovered, he pulled out and turned Justin over onto his back. Caught one leg in his hand and parted Justin's thighs as he lowered his head. There was little he loved better after coming than to suck Justin off, the boy's thick cock throbbing in his mouth, slit gaping open. He licked it clean of the precum that was there and swallowed knowing there'd be more. Face sticky, he slid his lips over the engorged head and down the shaft and heard Justin moan as his mouth came to rest around the base. Justin's pubes tickled his nose a little but he was enjoying the taste, the feel of the teen's cock too much to care. His head bobbed over Justin's groin as he went down on him, thirsty for the taste of his cum.

Justin's buttocks tightened and he gave a cry. "Oh…" he groaned. "Fuck…" and he came in Brian's mouth, the man coaxing every drop from his dick.

Holding a mouthful of cum, Brian opened his lips and let the cloudy liquid flow back over Justin's cock, then lapped it up again. Delirious, Justin closed his eyes to the sight, it was too hot, too much to comprehend. All he wanted to do was to feel.

Having cleaned up a little, they crawled into bed and moved together, arms and legs entwined about one another like incestuous vines.

It was their first night in London. 

 

Brian had gone to work out so he lay staring at the ceiling, the early morning light the only illumination needed. He could hear the birds out in the garden below. He'd tried to get Brian to stay in bed with him but the man had insisted on hitting the gym saying he had no intention of turning into a fat, old queen on their vacation and nothing Justin said could convince him otherwise. So he'd gone at the crack of dawn to sweat for an hour. Justin was glad he didn't need to work out. Not yet anyway and he hoped his freakish metabolism held up at least through his twenties. Although it wouldn’t be too bad working out with Brian. On the other hand, he's serious about it and he wouldn't let me slide, not once, Justin thought. He glanced at the clock. Brian would be back in a bit, sweaty from his work-out, hair lank and hanging in his eyes, lips parted from breathing hard, muscles pumped… A smile leapt upon his lips. He couldn't wait until Brian returned. Breakfast might be delayed.

Just thinking about Brian made him feel tingly all over. Closing his eyes, he ran his hands over his chest and stomach, imagining they were Brian's hands. Sometimes he wondered how Brian felt when he was touching his young lover, what he was thinking. To tell the truth he wondered about that a lot, especially since their fiasco with Xavier and everything that had come after. At first he wondered how Brian could stand to touch him and he figured it was the same with Brian as it was with himself: he couldn't help it, he had to be with him, had to make love to him, there was no other choice. Although he'd enjoyed being with Xavier, nothing compared to what he felt when he and Brian made love. He wrapped his hand around his cock and tugged on it, imagining Brian doing it instead. "Brian," he whispered, wishing the man would hear him and come back. He heard a sound. Opened his eyes. Brian was standing at the foot of the bed.

"Start without me?" he asked, pulling off his tank top and crawling into bed.

As Justin had imagined he was sweaty and his muscles were hard as stone.

Breakfast could definitely wait. 

 

After a quick meal in one of the hotel's conservatories—glass-roofed and filled with plants and flowers—the two lovers walked to the Russell Square station and took the Picadilly line to Green Park where they transferred to the Victoria Line and rode to Pimlico. Justin could hardly contain himself as they strolled to the museum and Brian silently fortified himself for many hours of trying to keep up with the teen. Still, he more than enjoyed watching Justin walk slightly in front of him, wearing a pair of khaki shorts that left nothing to the imagination, especially his gorgeous behind which was definitely worth the aggravation.

Entering the museum by the entrance off of Atterbury Street, they paused to donate a couple of pounds since admission to the Tate's permanent collection was free. Although they'd paid to see the Freud pieces, Justin felt better after having deposited his donation. That done, they headed immediately to the nine rooms set aside for the Freud exhibition. Even though the museum had only been open for a few minutes, there were already a number of people milling about. Ignoring them completely, Brian and Justin gave the attendant their tickets, received their audio guides and programs, and entered the first of the rooms.

It was a dream come true, standing before paintings he'd only ever seen in books, in the book Brian had bought him for his birthday. To see "Girl with a Dog" and "Reflections with Two Children" up close, to wander through room after room, a surprise, a find around ever corner, was more intense than Justin had ever imagined. Forgoing the audio commentary, Justin stood in front of Freud's portrait of Francis Bacon, losing himself in the deceptively simple lines that managed to capture the essence of the man quite clearly despite being only a drawing, a study for a portrait that had been stolen while on loan from the Tate to a gallery in Berlin.

"He looks like him," Brian said from behind him.

"Who?"

"That actor. The one in the movie we saw."

Justin studied the face. "Yeah, he does." They'd rented a film about Francis Bacon with Sir Derek Jacobi playing the part of the infamous painter. Justin remembered Jacobi standing in the movie just as Bacon had in the drawing.

"I really like him," said Brian.

"Frances Bacon?"

"No. That actor. He was in Henry V wasn't he? The narrator?"

"Uh-huh. The Chorus." Although it shouldn't have, it constantly amazed Justin how aware Brian actually was of things and people around him. Even though he hardly talked about the movies or actors, he did take notice of them and remembered the ones he liked and he had favorite films, favorite books, it was just that no one had ever asked him about them, certainly not any of the tricks he'd done. That, more than anything, thrilled Justin, that he knew things about Brian that no one else did, little things that came from being close to him, from being with him day in and day out, from talking to him when they were lying in bed or having breakfast. The tiny moments that got overlooked by most people most of the time. And, yet, it was of those moments that a life was made. The forgettable moments that held the rest together, that led from crisis to celebration.

As they continued through the rooms, Brian tapped Justin on the arm with his program. "You haven't drawn any pictures of me lately."

Lying, Justin said, "I thought you hated posing for them." Truthfully, he'd been afraid of what he'd see if he sat down to draw his lover.

"You used to do them while I was asleep."

"I guess now I'm asleep too."

Softly, Brian agreed. "Yeah. Guess so."

For a while they were both silent as they roamed the exhibit. Noticing the number of naked portraits, Brian asked, "Are all artists perverts?"

Justin grinned. "No. Freud said that he liked painting people naked because it got them to shed their disguises, to get rid of the face they put on for the world, to reveal their basic animal instincts and desires."

Glancing sideways at the teen, Brian asked, "Is that why you like drawing me naked?"

He shrugged. "I guess." Added, "When you're naked there's nothing for you to hide behind, no designer labels, just you. I guess that's why I drew you when you were asleep, because I felt like you weren't hiding anything then. That I had a chance to maybe get a glimpse of you with your guard down. The real you." Then, as a postscript, he confessed, "Besides, sometimes I just like looking at you naked," and he stared at the man, caught up in his beauty.

Brian smiled, acknowledging the compliment and tried to hold Justin's gaze but he couldn't and looked away, slightly flustered.

From the Freud exhibit they walked upstairs to browse the permanent collection, in particular they were interested in the Bacon and Blake works and Turner's paintings of Venice since they were going to Venice in little over a week.

As had countless visitors before them, they were transfixed by Bacon's two triptychs: one simply entitled "Triptych-August 1972" and the other, "Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion". Of course, the pieces had special significance for them in light of Justin's "Three Views of Love" that had been the sleeper hit of the student show at PIFA. Looking at the panels, Brian felt weak and he knew that it wasn't Bacon's work that he was responding to but Justin's. Despite having survived the ordeal there wasn't a day that went by when he didn't think about how close he'd come to losing his life, to throwing everything away, including Justin's life. Wordlessly, the teen moved closer to him and took hold of his hand. He looked down at his partner and tried to smile but couldn't.

"Come on," Justin told him and they left the room in search of lighter fare.

The Turner in Venice works appeared, at first, to be exactly what they needed but, eventually, they began to sense the decay that lay beneath the seemingly light-filled paintings of the city. It was as if Turner had painted Venice simultaneously in the now and in the future, prophesizing that the city would eventually dissolve into the sea.

Giving a tiny laugh, Brian shook his head and checked Justin's watch since he never wore one unless he absolutely had to. "Lunch," he suggested and Justin agreed.

With the Blake room and others left to explore afterwards, they stayed inside the building and ate in the museum restaurant. It was definitely a step down—several steps down—from Hakkasan. Luckily, they were saving their appetites for J Sheekey that evening.

Pausing over his Caesar salad, Justin asked, "Do you think…" But he couldn't finish his question.

"What?"

He looked up again. "That it'll ever be okay between us? I mean, really okay."

The question hurt because he hadn't intended to let it show. "We are okay."

"How can we be if you… if you still hurt so much?"

"Baby—"

"I can see it in your eyes, Brian." He laid down his fork and studied his plate for a few moments before speaking again. "I would do anything—"

"You don't have to. Justin, I'm okay. We're okay. It's just that sometimes… sometimes it hurts. And Drew says I should just let it, not try and hide it. He says that's what got me into trouble in the first place."

"That was me."

"No. That was a lot of shit that had nothing to do with you." He smiled, not having to force it this time. "Art is a bitch, you know?"

And Justin laughed cause it was such a Brian thing to say, a total non sequitur and, yet, he understood exactly what Brian meant. Because they were connected. Despite everything.

Fortified for the moment, they tackled Blake after lunch and Justin could tell that the paintings were affecting Brian as much as the Bacon had. "Brian?"

"I know how that feels," he said.

"How what feels?" They were looking at the canvas, "Nebuchadnezzar," a giant on his knees, mouth open screaming words of doom transmitted in a dream, the sound of his prophesies louder inside his own head than on the outside, endlessly echoing off the walls of his soul.

"Being almost too big for your thoughts. Being lost inside yourself," he explained with a little shake of his head, knowing that he was making little sense.

And Justin told him gently, "You don't have to feel lost anymore. I'm here."

Brian slipped an arm around him. He understood. Together they were enough to fill all the hollow spaces inside. 

 

Slightly ahead of schedule, they arrived at the Westminster station a little after two o'clock. Walking below the Westminster Bridge, they came upon the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. Brian got off a number of shots of the building as they walked its grounds; most of the pictures included Justin standing in front of some architectural feature or another. From there they walked over to Westminster Abbey, took some more pictures, and found out that they had already missed the time for the last admission of the day.

"Fuck!" cursed Brian, endearing him to the people who'd come up behind them and were just as disappointed if not quite as vulgar and vocal about it. He'd really wanted to see the stained glass windows from the inside and to visit Poets' Corner. Which had surprised Justin who would have never figured him to be a lover of either stained glass or English poetry. However, he did like Michelangelo and, as Justin had found out, he had a soft spot in his heart for the Romantic poets.

"Oh well," Justin said. "Maybe we can come back some other time." His face lit up. "Since we can't go inside, let's see if we can catch one of the riverboat tours." He'd seen them from shore and was dying to go on one.

"What about Buckingham Palace?" They were supposed to have gone there after Westminster Abbey.

"We can do that another day too. Please."

Brian shrugged so they hurried down to the pier and were able to secure passage on a tour that was leaving within the half hour.

On board the boat, they stood along the railing on the top deck and watched London float by. Completely ignoring the tour guide whose voice was piped through the PA system from inside, they pointed out buildings and attractions to one another.

"There's the London Eye. I can't wait to go up," said Justin of the giant Ferris wheel towering over everything on the south bank.

"I can," replied Brian. His stomach was already doing flip-flops just thinking about it. He could do heights up to a certain point and then it just seemed like foolishness to him unless you were in an airplane. Thinking back to the night Gus was born and that stunt he'd pulled, going up to the top of the hospital and standing on the ledge, he felt a little queasy. Of course, he'd been operating on pure adrenaline. And Mikey had been there. Still, they could have both fallen to their deaths and that would have been the end of that story.

Brian's camera was busy recording the sights as they passed while Justin marked places on their map that they hoped to eventually get to before leaving Wednesday morning. He didn't say anything but Brian thought it would be nearly impossible to get all of it done. Still, if anyone could do it, it'd be Justin.

Getting off the boat at the pier, they joined the crowd of people walking up to the Tower of London. It was on their list of things to do although they'd figured they'd go on Monday. Maybe they'd do Westminster and Buckingham Palace that day instead.

They followed one of the red and blue clad yeoman warders, or Beefeaters as they were called, on a tour of the Tower complex, taking in the Castle and the Crown exhibit along the way where the crown jewels were on display as part of the Queen's Jubilee celebrating fifty years of rule.

"Do you think Prince Charles is ever going to be king?" Justin asked.

"Not if he marries that Camilla woman. Besides, he'll be so old by the time Elizabeth dies why would he care anymore?"

"I hope Prince William becomes king. He's a hottie."

Brian glanced over at his partner. "Really?"

"Not that I was looking."

"Keep your eyes on the jewels. And I don't mean his," teased Brian and Justin smiled and pushed him forward on the tour.

As they crossed the Tower green, Justin pointed to the scaffold area. "Can you imagine how it must feel to get your head chopped off with an axe?"

"Kind of like getting an ass chewing from Deb." Something he knew way too much about.

As did Justin who agreed. "True."

On the boat ride back, it had gotten a little chilly and Brian wrapped his arms around Justin and held him garnering looks from some of the other passengers. Fuck em, he told himself, glaring from beneath half-lidded eyes. Most of the people who had been staring surreptitiously at them looked away.

By the time they returned to the hotel, it was after six and all they wanted to do was to crash. Brian fell back onto the bed with a grunt. He was soon joined by Justin with a grunt of his own. "I'm beat," the teenager said.

"And we've only got an hour and," he checked the clock with a lift of his head, "fifteen minutes until our reservations."

"Think we could be a little late?"

Brian raised up and looked at Justin incredulously. "Are you crazy? We were lucky to get reservations at all. There's going to be a long line of desperate people waiting outside just hoping we don't show up."

"I guess that means no."

"Unless you want to sample the fish and chips down at the local pub."

"Hey—"

"Don't even think about it," warned Brian as he sat up in bed. "So come on. Shower time." Justin grinned. "And none of that, young man."

Justin pouted and followed him into the bathroom. "You think we'll see Tom Cruise at J Sheekey?" He and other celebs were rumored to eat there when they were in town.

"Maybe Heaven," the gay club they were going to after dinner.

"You really think he's gay?" Justin turned on the water and shook his head as he was doused.

"Not like I care," he said, soaping the teenager's back. "I don't want to fuck him."

"No?"

"I don't do old. He's like, what? Forty?"

Justin laughed because if anyone else had said that, he would have accused them of sour grapes; Brian actually meant it. "Then I guess I've got nothing to worry about."

"Nope," Brian replied. "You're half his age and twice as cute."

Kissing him, Justin whispered, "Later?"

And Brian assured him that there'd be plenty of time once they got back. "Count on it." 

 

They made their reservation with ten minutes to spare although Justin guessed from the way the maitre d' was looking at Brian that even if they'd been late, he would have bumped someone else just to let them in. Brian did look particularly scrumptious tonight, testament to the fact that they were going clubbing later. A holdover from his cruising days, Justin supposed, that he always looked as if he were on the make even when he wasn't. In any case, he could definitely hold his own against any of the supposed stars that frequented the place. In his slutty burnt sienna sweater that continued to succumb to gravity and slide off his broad shoulders and a pair of black flat-front slacks, he caught the eyes of nearly every woman (and quite a few of the men) in the place. Moving closer to him, Justin made it clear that they were together and he was pleased to note a few of those people giving him the eye. Not out of hostility but out of interest. He did look good. Even Brian had said so. Of course, Brian had picked out and paid for the outfit, a thin, cream-colored sweater and olive slacks, saying it made Justin look particularly delicious. And Justin had made a comment that he tasted particularly good with whipped cream. He was hoping Brian had taken the hint.

The food was marvelous, fresh fish prepared with a light hand, but they were disappointed in their celebrity watching. Brian didn't really care except that he was secretly hoping he'd catch a glimpse of Phillippe Starck. Anyone who would turn an ordinary juicer into a work of art was definitely on his list of people to watch.

"Have you ever met anyone famous?" Justin asked.

"I don't think so." Who the fuck knew if he had somewhere, especially if he had been under the influence of… whatever.

"Who would you liked to meet? Other than Phillippe Starck?"

"Giorgio Armani."

Justin grinned. "You think he'd get you to model his clothes?"

"Who better?" Smiled. "What about you?" As if he didn't know.

"Lucian Freud."

Cocking his head, Brian said, "Now how did I know you were going to say that? Who else?"

"David Byrne."

"The guy from Talking Heads?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Cause his music is cool and he's an artist too."

Dinner finished, they sauntered over to the Manto Bar for a couple of drinks before going dancing. They found a table near the back and pretended not to notice the interest directed their way.

"They say the Manto in Manchester is better. They mentioned it on that Queer as Folk show," Justin said.

"What Queer as Folk show?" He didn't really keep up with television but he thought he would have seen something about a show called Queer as Folk.

"It's British."

That explained why he'd never heard of it.

"About this group of gay friends. Can you believe it? They had a twenty-nine-year-old guy with this fifteen-year-old kid."

Brian raised a brow. "Fifteen? Jesus. I could barely put up with a seventeen-year-old. But fifteen? No fuckin way."

Justin wadded up his cocktail napkin and threw it at Brian. "Liar. You would have put up with me even if I was fourteen."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Cause I'm the best lay you ever had," Justin boasted.

Brian's tongue peeked out from between his lips. There was nothing to say. Cause it was true.

They both commented that other than the accents and the distinctly British look of the guys, being in Manto was a lot like being in Woody's: guys cruising, guys making out, guys drinking. In particular, they noticed one guy who was cruising them pretty heavily. He hadn't gotten up the courage to approach them but it'd only be a matter of time as he was looking at them the way a kid eyed candy. He wasn't bad looking, kinda hot actually, but they'd had their fill of threesomes for a long, long time. Finally the guy decided to go for it. Brian and Justin pretended not to see him approach their table.

"Hello," he said. "How's it going?"

Brian, brazen as ever, looked the guy up and down and smiled and Justin could see the guy practically melt right next to him. "Pretty good."

"Americans then."

"That's right." He reached for his beer, making sure the guy got a good look at his ring.

Justin saw the man glance at his hand as well.

"How long?"

"Long enough," Brian replied.

"You're gorgeous, you know. Both of you."

"We know," said Brian. "But we're kind of on our honeymoon."

The guy held up his hands. " 'Nough said. Have a good one."

"Thanks," said Justin, the only words he'd spoken during the entire exchange. He waited until the man was out of earshot and giggled. "You're shameless."

"What?"

"You were flirting with that guy."

"So? I told him no." Brian finished his beer. "Let's go dancing."

They'd printed out a voucher for Heaven from the web to get a reduced cover charge for Brian, more for the novelty of it than from any burning desire to save a couple of pounds. Justin got in free with his ID since he was under twenty-one, something he didn't harp on for once.

He did point out the DJ up on stage. "That's him. Wayne G."

Brian made him out amid the darkness and swirling lights. "He's a hottie."

Justin tugged on his arm. "Dance with me."

The singer belted out a familiar song. "Ya'll wanna go dive in the pool?/ I know ya'll wanna go dive in the pool!/ Come on! Come on! Let's go!" 1

"Let's get soakin' wet!" Brian and Justin yelled with her and they danced around, surprised when they didn't see Mikey, Emmett, and Ted next to them.

As usual, Brian was content to let Justin bounce around while he held on as best he could.

_"Come on! Are you ready! Are you ready? Come on! I wanna hear it!/ Let's get soaking' wet!"_

Two songs later they returned to the bar and ordered a double Beam to share while taking a breather. The DJ played one of the songs off the new Paul Oakenfold album, the one with Perry Farrell singing lead, "Time of Your Life".

"Did you ever listen to Jane's Addiction?" Justin asked Brian and hoped the man hadn't grown tired of his questions. Brian sometimes did.

"Not really. I did like that Porno for Pyros' song though. "Pets". That was pretty cool."

Returning to the floor, they danced to a Jimmy Somerville song, "Here I Am", his falsetto voice raising goosebumps on their skin.

 _"I'm in front of you can you see me?/ Screaming can you hear me,/ Screaming can you hear me?/ Here I am/ Here I am_ …" 2

As with Manto and Woody's, Heaven pretty much reminded them of Babylon. "I wonder why they say it's the most famous gay club in the world?"

"Good publicity. And it's not like anyone can dispute it," replied Brian. "I gotta hit the head. Coming?"

"I'm good."

With a kiss, Brian said, "You better be," and went to find the bathroom.

Justin saw the two guys before they got right up on him but he didn't pay them any attention, too busy watching the couples kick it up on the dance floor.

"Haven't seen you around here before," one of them said.

Justin turned. Realized they were talking to him. "No."

The other one smiled. "American."

"Yeah." At the risk of being rude, he decided to move on but one of them blocked his way.

"Running off so soon? Stay. Talk for a while."

Deciding it was better to cut this short, Justin held up his ring. "I'm taken."

"We only want you for an hour or so and then he can have you back," the first one, the dark one, said and both of the men laughed.

"No thanks." Again he tried to move away and again they prevented him from leaving.

"We're just trying to be hospitable, mate."

"I'm not your mate and I don’t want your hospitality." This time he pushed at the blond guy in front of him but the man stood his ground and Justin began to be afraid. How the fuck had he gotten so far into the corner?

"Now," the dark-haired one said, "we are going to play nice, aren't we?"

"No," said a voice from behind them, "what you're going to do is to get the fuck away from him before I kick your asses across the Thames."

Justin looked around with a mixture of relief and shame. He'd wanted to do this on his own, take care of it himself.

"And who are you, mate?" asked the blond.

Brian held up his ring. "I'm his mate. Now, fuck off."

Although the two men looked to be a match for Brian physically, what they saw in his eyes must have convinced them that it wasn't worth taking him on and they backed off. "Fuckin' tosser," one of them grumbled as they melted back into the crowd.

"You all right?"

Angry, Justin said, "I could have taken care of it myself."

"I know. But if you think I'm going to stand by while some asshole tries to fuck with you, you're wrong."

"I don’t need you to protect me."

"That's my job."

"I don't belong to you. I’m not your property, not your fucking toy," he said tightly. God, he didn't know why but it had really pissed him off.

But instead of getting angry too, Brian just replied calmly, "Yeah. You are. You're mine. From top to bottom. My little boy." Justin looked up. "My Sunshine. My Pooh. My sticky sweet honey bear." Justin was glad it was dark so that no one could see him blushing. Brian leaned close and whispered, "My moaning, groaning, cream-filled twinkie." Kissed him. "My sweet-assed boy toy." Pecked him on the lips. "My big-dicked baby. All mine. And I protect what's mine. You got it?"

Pulse racing, Justin could hardly speak. "I got it."

"Good." He took hold of Justin's arm. "Now, let's get the fuck out of here." 

 

Unlike the previous night when they'd made love slowly, by the time they stepped across the threshold Brian had managed to work out of his sweater and was unzipping his pants. Stumbling over to the bed, he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers and briefs, letting them lay where they fell. Dropping to his knees, he tore open Justin's slacks and pulled them and his briefs down around his ankles.

Justin gasped as Brian pushed up his sweater and his lips closed around the head of his cock. He was already half-hard and wanting Brian to fuck him so badly that he almost pushed Brian away from his dick in order to get him to do it but it felt so good to slide in and out of his lover's mouth that he surrendered and let the man do as he wanted.

Luckily they were close to the nightstand because Brian didn't know how long it'd take before he'd succumb to the need to be inside Justin. Already he ached for the boy.

Pulling out of Brian's mouth, Justin rubbed his cock over his lover's lips, soliciting a last few moist kisses. Then he got to his knees and bent over Brian's lap.

"Fuck," whispered Brian as Justin went down on him, the teen's fingers stroking his balls as his lips sucked the head. Chest heaving, he fought the urge to come and slowed his breathing. Reached for the condoms and lube.

Justin unrolled one of the Trojans over his cock and lubed him well. Brian leaned back against the bed as Justin climbed onto his erection. Holding onto Brian's shoulders, crouched on the balls of his feet, Justin raised and lowered his ass onto his man's dick, wildly fucking himself until they were both drenched with sweat and moaning uncontrollably. Feeling himself getting closer to coming, Justin took Brian into his ass and sat on his lap, legs around his hips and arms around his neck. He laid his head against his shoulder and kissed his throat, waiting until the urge passed.

"Oh, baby," Brian breathed against his hair. One hand under his sweater, holding onto Justin's slippery back, Brian lowered them to the floor without breaking their intimate contact. Taking an ankle in either hand, he held Justin wide open as he fucked him.

He slowed his thrusts. "Are you mine?" he asked harshly, unable to control his breathing.

"Yes," gasped Justin.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I'm yours," he said and, lifting his sweater up under his arms, he showed Brian all of him: hard, tense, and hot.

"Say it," Brian again demanded, burying his cock inside him.

"I'm yours," Justin moaned and Brian began pounding him hard. "I'm yours." He felt wide open, exposed, naked, as naked as the people in Lucian Freud's paintings; he felt like an animal, mindlessly fucking on the floor, and he wanted Brian to thrust even harder. "Fuck me!" he cried, listening to the wet sound of Brian's dick slamming into his hole. "Harder." Brian released his legs and leaned over him, pumping even faster. "Yes! Yes!" he groaned and wrapped his legs around his lover's hips. "Yes." Brian's saliva dripped down upon him, sweat rained on him, and he felt like he was being fucked with a log. His dick throbbed, balls rubbing up against Brian's belly. Clutching Brian's shoulders, he gave a shout and came between them, his asshole tight around Brian's cock and the man yelled and came too, head thrown back as he dropped his load. Justin reached down and ran his fingers through his cum, smeared it over Brian's lips. The older man lapped at his fingers, then lunged towards his young partner to seal their mouths with a kiss. 

 

Before they fell asleep they called back home. They rang Lindz first hoping to catch Gus before he went to bed. Luckily the Munchers were just about to bathe him when the phone rang. Even so, Brian could tell he was only a few minutes away from passing out. Giving a sleepy, "Dada," the baby said little else except to whisper, "Pooh," when Justin got on to talk to him.

"So," said Lindsay as Mel went to put the baby down, "how's London?"

"Overcast."

"And…?"

Justin was sprawled across him, head pillowed on his chest. He reached down and cupped his bare buttock. "And not bad."

She laughed. "Go to sleep. You sound worse than Gus."

"Busy day."

"And night too, I bet."

"Later." Hanging up, he nudged Justin. "Call your mom."

"Tomorrow."

"No, tonight. She'll blame me if you don't."

So Justin called Jennifer and woke up enough to tell her about the Freud exhibit and the river trip to the Tower of London. "Yeah," he replied to something she asked him and then he said, "Give Molly a kiss for me. Night."

Brian stirred when he hung up. "Yeah, what?"

Justin knew what he was alluding to. "She asked me if it was worth it. The trip."

"Worth what?"

"Everything we've been through." Of course, his answer had been yes. It was worth it, each and every tear just to be lying here in Brian's arms. To be lying anywhere in his arms. They were damn lucky and they both knew it.

Brian pulled the covers up over them. 

 

Having woke up just as Brian was putting on his gym clothes and not wanting to be parted from him even for a moment, Justin had gotten up and tagged along, saying it wouldn't hurt to work out for once. Little did he know how much it would hurt. His pride more than anything else. He'd taken it for granted that he could keep up with Brian, after all, he was nineteen and Brian was thirty-one. He hadn't expected to match the man in weight lifting but he thought he could, at least, hang with him on the treadmill. But after about fifteen minutes he found himself tiring and having to readjust the settings for a slower pace. Brian never paused. Sweat glistened on his skin and he reached for his water bottle to slake his thirst but other than that he never slowed. Finally, Justin gave up even pretending to run and took it at a walk. Which gave him an excellent opportunity to watch Brian. To observe the ease with which he ran, his long legs scissoring seemingly effortlessly. After a half hour, he stopped. Wiped his face.

"You were supposed to be running," he told Justin.

"I like watching you better." He smiled. "How fast can you run?"

Brian shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'm into endurance." Grinned.

"My marathon man," teased Justin.

"All night long."

"All day too," Justin added, remembering a few of their all-weekend fuckfests. He glanced around. There was only one other person in the room and he was busy working with the free weights. Leaning into Brian, Justin kissed him. "How about a demonstration?"

Brian asked, "You sure you're up to it? You were looking kinda ragged on the treadmill."

Leaving him, Justin sauntered towards the exit, aware of Brian's eyes on his hips. Pausing in the doorway, he slowly ran his hand over his ass, then disappeared.

Water bottle in hand, Brian followed. 

 

Since it was convenient to do so, they caught one of London's famous red double-decker buses on High Holborn Street. Justin insisted on riding in the top half so he could get a better view of the city. They got off at Newgate. Across the road was St. Paul's Cathedral. Its massive, triple-layered dome dominated the skyline, rising over three hundred and sixty feet above street level.

"Beautiful," declared Justin and Brian agreed but, then again, so many of the buildings they'd seen could be called beautiful.

"Must be tiring, to live in a city where everything is either beautiful or historically significant," he said off-handedly.

If Justin picked up on the sarcasm, he wisely ignored it. Brian had gotten a little snippy as they passed the Old Bailey, alluding to Oscar Wilde's infamous trial and harsh imprisonment. "If we had lived back then, your dad would have had me hauled in and sent to prison instead of kicking the shit out of me. And then you would have forgotten all about me and gotten married like a proper English gentleman. Become a famous artist."

All that Justin had said in reply was, "I'm still going to be a famous artist."

But Brian's complaint had been more than a casual remark. He felt it keenly here in London: the burden of history, just at the moment when he wanted to forget his own the most. To have been reminded of Wilde's mistakes had brought his own to the forefront of his mind, from where they never were for very long anyway, threatening to turn his mood morose.

Seeing that, Justin was even more determined not to let him brood. They were here to enjoy themselves, to forget the past as Brian had told him, and they would.

Nearing the cathedral, they walked around the outside since the building was closed to tourists on Sunday and they were too late for the communion service and too early for the main service—not that Brian would have gone anyway. He had an active dislike of church. Justin, meanwhile, pointed out the interesting (to him) facts about the cathedral, reading from the guidebook.

"It's the largest cathedral in England and took over thirty years to build. The original cathedral burned down in 1666." They walked to the south door and found a carved phoenix with the word Resurgam engraved on the pediment. "It means, 'I shall rise again,' " he told Brian.

"Maybe I should call my d—"

"Brian!"

He smirked. And waited for lightning to strike. When it didn't, he breathed easier. It was just as he'd always thought: God did have a sense of humor.

From the cathedral they walked across the delicate-looking Millennium Bridge to the Tate Modern. Brian looked around him warily. It didn't look strong enough to support much weight and Justin had told him that after it first opened, a wobble was discovered and the bridge had been shut down for repairs. It had only reopened six months ago. "Are you sure this is safe?" he asked, envisioning them plunging into the cold river below.

"Fraidy cat. How many people do you think walk across this thing in a day?" Justin asked.

"I don't give a fuck about them," Brian replied, "I'm worried about us. This trip cost a fortune, I'd like to make it to Milan. Even better, as drab as it is, I'd like to actually make it back to Pitts."

Justin thought he heard something in Brian's voice. "You tired of being a tourist already?"

"No." And if he were, there was no point in saying so because they still hadhad Italy, Spain, and France to go.

"Sure?"

"Can we cut the talk and just hurry up and get the fuck off this thing?" Brian growled and Justin almost laughed. Almost. Because he wanted to live to get to Florence and if he laughed, in the mood he was in, Brian was liable to toss him over the side and tell his mom it was an accident.

As they stepped off the bridge, to their left they could see the new Globe Theatre that had been built in 1997. The first Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare worked, had burned down in 1613 and the Puritans destroyed the second one in 1642 but an American director had drummed up support to have it rebuilt again. It was supposed to be an authentic reproduction of the original; it even had a thatched roof.

To say he was anxious to get to the Tate and, in particular, to the Matisse Picasso exhibit was an understatement. As excited as he'd been about seeing the Freud pieces, he couldn’t deny that the exhibition at the Tate Modern loomed over the city's artistic offerings as Matisse and Picasso had towered over the twentieth century world of art. LeGrange spoke of them in reverential tones that nearly sent most of the students at PIFA into laughing fits. Nearly. But not quite because you only had to look at their work, at the prodigious amount and the quality to see that LeGrange's respect had been earned.

Although they'd thought the Freud show had been busy, they saw that they had been mistaken. Arriving just as the doors opened, they found themselves in the middle of a massive crowd of people, all headed, Justin feared, for the fourth floor where the Matisse Picasso exhibition was being held. Still, Justin was determined not to let it bother him. After all, how many chances would he get to see all of these pieces together in one place? Masterpieces by two of the giants of modern art. Xavier would have killed to have been here. Maybe he would see the show when it came to New York. Justin hoped so.

Brian glanced at his program and sighed inwardly. Fourteen rooms. God help him. And the crowd was only growing. It'd take them over an hour alone to get through just this exhibit and that still left two more massive floors to explore. Fucking place was huge. Who knew there was that much art in the world? And did they have to see it all? 'Important work,' Justin's words. Brian paused in recounting his grievances because the teenager was no longer beside him. Looking around he spotted Justin still standing before Picasso's self-portrait. He went back and waited.

"He painted this when he was twenty-five."

"Wonder what he was thinking about?"

Justin turned, cocked his head, unsure for a moment if Brian was being serious. He seemed to be. Truthfully, the teen was surprised that Brian had lasted this long. This was their third day of sightseeing and their third museum, with a fourth on their agenda for this afternoon. He had to be getting tired of it. Even though he had become a pretty good amateur photographer, Brian often told Justin that 'the fuckin' camera does all the work' and he refused to consider himself an artist. So what was he making of all this art? Still, he put that thought aside and answered Brian's question as best he could. "Paul Cezanne had just died and both he and Matisse admired him a lot. Maybe he was thinking about that. Maybe," he said, as the program had suggested, "he was thinking about what it would be like, not having someone like Cezanne standing over him, that now was his chance to take the spotlight."

"Scary."

"Picasso?" Justin laughed. "I don't think he was ever afraid of anything."

"You never know," Brian replied, studying the painting more closely. "People hide things all the time. Keep secrets even from themselves."

 _The way I kept refusing to see how much trouble you were in?_ Justin asked himself. Out loud, "I guess."

Brian paused before the other Picasso in the room, "Boy Leading a Horse". "I know this one. I saw it in an encyclopedia. When I was a kid."

"And you remembered it?"

"I used to wonder what it would be like to ride a horse." He turned. "Looked peaceful. Maybe I should ask Molly, she'd know."

Justin followed him into the next room, wondering if he'd ever learn everything there was to learn about his lover. Just when he thought he'd figured him out, Brian surprised him. Maybe he surprised himself. Maybe that's what life was all about, constantly surprising yourself and the people around you. Reinventing yourself. No. Rediscovering yourself. Maybe that's what great artists were able to do that others couldn't.

In room four, the exhibition's main thrust, that the two artists influenced and challenged one another became apparent in a series of portraits they'd done of various women. The paintings all showed characteristics of Cubism, which had been developed by Picasso and Braque and was influenced by African art. And who had introduced Picasso to African art? Matisse.

"Just think," Brian said, "one day people will be walking through an exhibit talking about how you and Xavier influenced and competed with one another."

"He's a lot better than I am," he replied, then paused. "But I'm getting better and one day I'll catch up with him."

"You'll pass him by."

Brian was amazed that the crowd had ceased to annoy him. One moment he'd been aware of the incessant chatter, of the relentless press of a hundred people's psyches against his own and, in the next, they had dropped from his sight. They were still there, physically in the rooms with them, only they no longer mattered. All that mattered was Justin and the art. As they walked through the other rooms, pointing out familiar works, "I know that one," about "Three Musicians" and "Harlequin", they talked about the future, about what Justin was going to do once he'd graduated (luckily three years away); and about Brian's impending partnership which would probably happen a lot sooner.

"You work too hard as is, if you're made a partner, it'll only mean more work."

Brian gestured to the works around them. "You think they slept eight hours a night?"

"What about me?"

"What about you?" Brian asked. "You'll be doing this. It's not like we're joined at the hip now."

Justin looked down. "I miss you."

Lifting his chin with his hand, Brian kissed him softly. "I haven't gone anywhere." But he understood that for a little while Justin would be unsure of him, having nearly lost him.

"Not without me," the teen clarified and Brian wanted to take him in his arms and hold him until the cold lump of fear in the pit of his stomach melted.

 _How fucking close did I come to killing us both?_ It frightened him, even now, that he had almost thrown both their lives away.

Turning the conversation away from himself, he asked, "So you still want to be a computer animator? Work for Disney?" he teased.

"I hate fucking Disney. Their Tarzan sucked big time. I would work for Dreamworks or Pixar though."

"We'd have to move," Brian reminded him. "No studios in Pittsburgh."

"Maybe I could start my own company. Right there in Pitts."

"I wouldn't mind living in LaLa Land," said Brian. "Gus could learn to surf."

Exiting the Tate some two hours and a half hours after they'd entered it, the two lovers went in search of food. Heading down river along the Millennium Walk, they spotted the Oxo Tower Wharf. The concierge at the hotel had told them that if they were interested in art and design, that was the place to go. Plus, it had a restaurant on the eighth floor. So they went inside and Brian thought Justin would explode. The building housed thirty-three retail studios where the designers actually worked and sold their pieces. On the first floor was a gallery space with free admission to the public; they walked through an exhibition of photographs detailing the influence of street advertising in London. Brian was impressed both by the ads and the photography. But the most impressive feature of the building was that in between the second and eighth floors were five floors of low-rent housing flats. That was a concept: low-rent apartments and high-end design studios occupying the same building.

The restaurant looked over the river, offering a spectacular view and food that wasn't half bad. After lunch, they hurried back downstairs and browsed the shops, actually picking up a few things as gifts to ship back home. Brian got Gus a couple of tee-shirts from Little Badger which sold children's clothing. Neither he nor Justin understood the appeal but the promotional material said that their designs had been bought by or for Madonna, Nicole Kidman, and Bono. What the hell. Although it did smart a little to pay forty dollars for a kid's tee-shirt even if it was handmade.

They went into this studio called Salt that sold designer blinds and Brian had to keep himself from purchasing some leather strip blinds for the bedroom in the loft. Although the textured blinds would have looked fabulous, 1) he didn't have the precise measurements for the windows around the bedroom and 2) he and Justin were seriously thinking about finding a new place. They hadn't discussed it for a while but Justin really needed a place to work when he was home and it'd be nice to have a room for Gus when he visited and maybe an office to work in himself where he didn't have to listen to The Powerpuff Girls on the television or The Crystal Method on the stereo unless he wanted to. Still, he took one of their cards just in case. Who knew? Maybe they'd move into a place a lot like the loft and he could still use the blinds. It could happen.

They also swung by Gabriel's Wharf, which was just a two minute walk away from the Oxo Tower and perused the shops there as well. Got Lindsay an embroidered jacket from Lauren Shanley. Brian wasn't too sure but Justin assured him that she'd love it.

Although it was slightly overcast (as usual) it was a pleasant day and the two men took their time meandering down the Millennium Walk towards County Hall where the Dali Universe was located. Despite the fact that they were coming back to the area that evening to ride on the London Eye, they wanted to see things in the broad daylight.

As they passed the Somerset House which housed fine art as well as part of the state government, Brian tugged on Justin's arm. Just the thought of going through another gallery or museum, in addition to the Dali, made him feel a little dizzy.

Walking through the Jubilee gardens towards the London Eye, Brian again felt disoriented. That feeling was amplified as they stood beneath the wheel and looked up towards the sky. The apex of the wheel was one hundred and thirty-five metres off the ground, allowing riders a viewing range of nearly twenty-five miles.

"That is going to be too awesome," Justin said, shading his eyes as he watched the viewing pods slowly rise and fall. "It takes almost a half hour to make a complete revolution."

"Don't tell me," replied Brian, closing his eyes. _Why the fuck had he said he'd do it?_ The ballooning they'd done during their weekend in the country had been bad enough but at least the balloon had moved relatively quickly. This was like slowly watching your death approach without having any recourse but to wait for it. Stupid. And yet, he was going to do it. For his baby. 

Having gone through the entire Dali Universe, the one thing Brian could remember really clearly was the red sofa shaped like Mae West's lips. It would have looked perfect in Mikey and Emmett's place. Totally tacky. In fact, a lot of the Dali stuff would have looked perfect in their apartment. Maybe Michael and Emmett were secretly geniuses. Brian smirked. Or maybe Dali was not-so-secretly insane. Checking Justin's watch, Brian suggested heading back to the hotel.

"I could use a nap," Justin said.

"It'll have to be a short one. We've got early dinner reservations."

So they took the tube back to the Russell Street station and walked slowly to the hotel. They would have walked quickly but they were both bushed. "Don't let me forget to mail this stuff off tomorrow," meaning the presents they'd bought, Brian told Justin.

"Um-hm," he replied, which was all Brian was going to get at that moment.

How they made it to the room was a mystery to them both. When they woke up forty-five minutes later, the alarm ringing, neither of them remembered setting it or even closing their eyes for that matter. Still, whether they remembered or not, they had a dinner reservation to make in an hour which meant showering and dressing, jacket included, and getting back across the river. When Brian would have gotten them a taxi, Justin suggested that they take the tube instead.

"We can take a taxi back."

"Suit yourself."

Although both trains were crowded and they had to take a short walk from the Embankment station to the Savoy Hotel they arrived at the River Restaurant in good shape and in good time. It was really strange to see cars driving on the right hand side of the street, the only place in London where they did that. Once they were inside, Justin looked around feeling a little uncomfortable. This was, by far, the most traditional (read: stodgy) place they'd eaten yet and he felt very young and very gay. Worse, he felt as if everyone was looking at him. Brian, as usual, if he did notice, affected not to care and soon Justin found himself somewhat adopting his attitude if not quite matching it. They were here to have dinner, not challenge the other diners' tolerance. If they didn't like having the two of them in their midst, they could just Fuck off he said to himself. Brian would have been proud.

With less than ninety minutes to eat and make it to the London Eye by eight thirty for their nine o'clock ride, the two decided to only have starters and a main course. While Justin began his meal with a tomato tart with glazed goat's cheese and basil dressing, Brian watched the waiter carve his wild smoked Scottish salmon right at the table. Biting into it was like eating salmon-flavored butter. Even Justin deigned to take a bite and pronounced it perfect. For dinner they both ordered the roasted lobster in a light curry sauce with smelt eggs. Justin wasn't quite sure what smelt eggs were.

"Smelt is a fish," Brian answered.

"Fish eggs?"

"Like caviar. Just eat it," he told him, "and don't think about what it is."

Despite his initial hesitation, they proved to be delicious. And the view was perfect. They'd managed to get seated by the window and spent most of dinner (when they weren't staring into one another's eyes) looking out at the riverfront, over at Cleopatra's Needle, and across the river at the Tate and the London Eye. In a little while they'd be on the other side, looking back across where they'd just been.

Dinner finished, they got back on the train and rode across the Thames, getting to the Eye a full half hour before their ride as they'd been instructed. Justin felt like he had firecrackers inside his stomach. Brian had booked a private capsule for their ride where they'd be served champagne by their own private waiter. Justin hoped the waiter didn't mind watching them snuggle cause he had a feeling a lot of snuggling would be going on. And not just from the champagne but because Brian looked like he'd swallowed Drano. Trying to put on a brave front, he pretended like he didn't care that they were about to slowly ascend into the air inside a mostly clear capsule but Justin knew better, knew that Brian's stomach was probably a little queasy right about now. He'd have to rub it for him when they got aloft.

The moment the attendants closed the door of the capsule Brian began to wonder if he hadn't lost his mind. What the fuck was he doing? At least they were alone (not including the waiter) so none of the other passengers would see how shaken he was by the entire experience. Justin knew, of course, but Justin would endeavor to make him feel better without it seeming like that was what he was doing. He had a way of calming Brian without calling attention to his actions and Brian appreciated it. He needed that sometimes more than anything. This would probably be one of those times.

After pouring their champagne and handing them each a glass, the waiter retired a discreet distance and sat waiting in case they had questions or wanted more champagne. Most people ended up finishing off the bottle as they watched the city go by. And most of the couples ended up making out at some point during the ride. He didn't think they'd be any different. Of course, he wouldn't exactly mind if they did. "They were gorgeous," he would tell his friends later. "I got a stiffy just watching them drink champagne."

Justin before him, Brian wrapped an arm about the teen and sipped his wine and, in a little while, he forgot how high up they were, just concentrated on the champagne and Justin. Bending his head, he brushed his lips over the teen's neck. Justin half-turned and cupped his face. They kissed, heedless of their audience and of their private view of London.

It didn't last. As soon as the brightly-lit face of Big Ben came into view, they both lost themselves in the beauty of the city and Brian got out his camera and began photographing their nighttime ride. Waving the waiter over, he got the young man to take their picture, outlined against the city skyline. They'd taken precious few together as it wasn't generally wise to hand over an expensive camera to perfect strangers. Hesitantly, the waiter snapped a picture, then shyly handed Brian the Nikon. He would have probably gone back to his corner and resumed his silent vigil if Justin hadn't smiled at him in such a friendly way that he began to feel comfortable around them.

"You're from America, then?"

"Pittsburgh."

"The Steelers."

"Yeah," replied Justin with a frown. "I don't really like football."

"Least not American football. Now European football, I love."

"Did you watch the World Cup?"

"Every day. It was brilliant!"

Brian smiled softly, then returned to the view outside. Leave it to Justin to make a friend no matter where he went. Even though he never said anything, it had to be hard, not having someone his own age to talk to, to piss around with, do the things teenagers did together. Hell, he knew how it had been with him and Mikey, how it still was. Only… things were changing between them. They had begun to rely less and less on one another and more on themselves or, in Brian's case, on Justin. He supposed that's the way life was. You grew up and grew apart. But maybe they'd grow back together again, in different ways. He looked down to see Justin at his side once more, his new friend having gone into the corner again.

He had the bottle of champagne in his hands. "There's some left."

Brian took it and filled their glasses. "Not anymore." Set the bottle down. "Cheers."

"To us."

"To us."

So they drank the last of the champagne as their ride drew to a close.

Glad to be back on the ground again, Brian admitted that he had enjoyed the ride. Justin waved to Gary the waiter and they set off walking down the riverbank until they found a relatively secluded section where there was a bench and sat looking at the opposite bank of the Thames.

"So what do you want to do now?" Brian asked. "You wanna go dancing or to a pub or something?"

"How about back to the room?"

"Tired?"

"I would love to take a hot bath," Justin said. "Maybe order some dessert and have it in bed. And we could call Gus before he falls asleep."

Smiling, Brian thought, _I guess that's what married people do._

"What?" asked Justin, nudging him with his elbow.

"Nothing." Brian stood, held out his hand and they walked like that, hand-in-hand, to the tube station. 

 

Lying in the tub with his feet up on the porcelain edges, Brian relaxed and let the bubbles soothe his tired body. Justin lay in his arms, head beneath his chin, moving only to breathe. It was nice, just being together, just touching one another without any thought of sex. To just be who they were, part of a pair, to be complete in and of themselves and to be content with their bonding. And Brian thought that it was moments like this that kept them together, not the wild fucking or the insane arguments or the seemingly endless crises that they faced but these moments, these quiet moments of togetherness, when he didn't doubt himself or their love because it seemed… right somehow. Without explanation, without logic or reason. When he felt, down to the marrow in his bones, that here was where he was meant to be, right now, with Justin. And nothing else mattered, nothing else could matter because nothing existed beyond them, nothing important anyway. And, yet, everything important was a part of them: Gus, and their families, and their friends, and the things they'd seen, and the places they'd been, all of that was part of them, they carried those things, those people, inside of them. How could he feel weak, feel unsure or uncertain, when so much good was encompassed in him? He couldn't.

Having soaked almost to the pruning point, they vacated the tub and toweled off, slipped into their robes and called Room Service, had them send up a huge piece of cheesecake which the two of them shared while talking to the folks back home.

Gus related some story to Brian that Lindsay had to interpret for him as he only understood one out of every five or six words. But the baby's speech was clear enough when he asked, "Where Dadda?"

"Dadda's in London," Brian told him. "Can you say that? Lon don."

"Lo."

"Lon don."

Instead of trying it again, Gus moved on to his next concern. "Dadda. Where Pooh?"

"Pooh's with me," he said and handed the phone to Justin.

"Hey, Gus."

"Pooh!"

"Is Gus being a good boy?"

Gus giggled. It was something his Mommy asked him all the time. "No!" he yelled and Justin laughed. That was Brian's son all right.

Lindsay came on and told Justin that Gus was not being a good boy at all and that he missed his daddy and Pooh. "So, are you having a wonderful time?"

"The art is incredible. We saw the Matisse Picasso show today and it was unbelievable."

"I went up to New York to the Picasso in Portraiture exhibit at MOMA. You forget how good he was because you hear his name so much. It's almost laughable how long he lived and how much he did before he died. You tell yourself, he couldn't have been that talented. But he was."

"I feel like I'm never going to be that good," he told her.

"Maybe not. He was a genius. Like da Vinci or Michelangelo. Maybe there won't be museums dedicated to your work. But if you're true to your art, that's all that matters."

With a glimpse at his lover, Justin said, "Brian says modesty's for losers." The man raised a brow but said nothing.

"It's not modesty. It's being realistic. Not everyone can expect to be the toast of the town." She smiled and he could feel it even though they were an ocean apart. "Maybe you will be. Brian believes in you and that means something. He doesn't waste his time on losers."

Watching Brian pick at the cheesecake, he agreed. "No. He doesn't."

After talking to Lindsay and Gus, Brian called Michael and they laughed for ten or fifteen minutes. Seemed Deb had gone out on a double date with Vic. He'd met this guy who had a brother who was straight. The gay one was a little nervous about dating since he'd just been diagnosed HIV+ and his brother was trying to encourage him so they all went to this Italian restaurant together. Everyone had a great time and when the evening was over, Vic and the brother ended up at his place and Deb ended up with a doggie bag.

"Everything going all right?" Michael asked.

"Perfect."

Michael smiled and Brian could tell that he had even though he couldn't see him. "You don't say that very often. Unless you're talking about yourself."

"It's true. I am perfect."

"Asshole."

"And I have a perfect asshole. Just ask Justin."

The teen had been in the middle of taking the last bite of the cheesecake and he almost choked. "Brian?!"

Laughing, Michael said goodnight and hung up. Brian replaced the phone in its cradle. Lay staring at Justin who was on his stomach and apparently trying to conjure up more cheesecake by using the power of his mind. At least, that's what Brian figured was happening by the intense way he was looking at the empty plate and the last few crumbs that clung to the smooth surface. Shaking his head, he untied his robe and dropped it to the floor, then got under the covers. He didn't intend to sleep, just to wait until Justin made up his mind what kind of dessert he wanted: cheesecake or beefcake. Wrinkling his nose at how dorky beefcake sounded, Brian yawned and it was all over.

Justin looked around and couldn't believe that Brian had conked out. Probably just as well. He'd felt so relaxed after their bath that he hadn't really wanted to get all worked up again but sex with Brian was something he never turned down if offered. So it worked out all right all around. Only, he wasn't really sleepy. Tired, yes, but just pleasantly so. Maybe if he did a little sketching he'd get in the frame of mind to go to sleep.

Unfortunately, as soon as he got out his sketch pad the gerbil started on the wheel and he began to think about what Brian had said about him not drawing him anymore and the lame excuse he'd given him. Well, here he was, awake, and Brian was asleep. The perfect opportunity. So he began to sketch, keeping his eyes on his lover although he no longer needed to look at him in order to accurately draw him. He watched him for the tiny clues that revealed his personality, the feel of him as he slept this time as opposed to all the other times. He watched him to discover the secrets that Brian kept about himself, sometimes even from himself. And he watched him because he found him beautiful, because it pleased him to look at him. He hadn't equivocated about that. Sometimes he'd lie next to Brian and just gaze at him, tempted to touch him, to make sure he was real, not believing that he could be, despite the warmth of his body, its solidity. And sometimes he did touch him, brush his hand over his chest or arm or back.

The quick portrait finished, he closed his pad and crawled into bed without disturbing his lover and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close; Brian stirred once, then settled down. 

 

Taking their breakfast in the garden, Brian and Justin went over the activities left on their list of things to do. They only had two more full days in the city, today and tomorrow, and then they'd be off to Rome on Wednesday.

"You sure you aren't museumed out?" Justin asked, using Brian's word for it.

"I told you, as many as you wanted."

"We don’t have to go to the National Gallery. I can see all the Italian Renaissance art I want in Italy."

Brian sipped his juice. "It's up to you." He smiled and slipped on his sunglasses. "I just like being with you."

Justin rolled his eyes. "You are so full of it."

"You don’t believe me?" He reached across the table in full view of the other couples out on the terrace and took Justin's hand. Rubbed his fingers. Justin started to withdraw his hand as they had attracted a bit of attention and then stopped. He liked it when Brian was affectionate towards him in public. He leaned over and kissed Brian's hand.

"I believe you."

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

"National Gallery, then an afternoon in Soho. Maybe we can find some more gifts in Covent Garden."

"Maybe. I cannot wait for dinner tonight." They were going to the Sugar Club, a trendy place that featured Pacific-rim inspired modern fusion cuisine, whatever the hell that meant. Expensive and strange. But probably good. Brian looked down at his stomach and patted it. He'd skipped the gym this morning but maybe they'd get back to the hotel this evening in time for him to do a few minutes on the treadmill before heading back out for dinner. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, referring to the fact that he'd fallen asleep last night before they'd had a chance to have sex.

"You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to disturb you. Besides, I like just being with you sometimes."

"Tired of sex already?" teased Brian.

"No."

"Good, because we've got at least a few more years before it becomes boring, stale, and repetitive."

"A few?"

"Decades. Two or three."

"You're only going to have sex until you get in your sixties?" asked Justin incredulously.

"Don't say that. I don't even want to think about being—"

"I bet you'll be the hottest sixty-one-year-old—"

"Stop it."

"I bet you'll be hot even when you're seventy," grinned Justin.

"You know, young man, you're not too big for me to take over my knee."

Justin half-closed his eyes, parted his lips and whispered, "Oh, daddy... promises, promises."

Wanting to take him upstairs that very moment and make good on his threat, Brian, instead, finished off his orange juice and hoped his hard-on wouldn't be visible when he got up.

"I've got something for you," Justin told him.

"I know. And we don't have time for you to give it to me."

Justin laughed and reached for his backpack, slumped in one of the empty chairs between them. "No. This." He took out a folded sheet of paper and handed it across the table.

Smiling, Brian unfolded it and paused. It was a drawing of him. Asleep. He recognized the detailing on the covers. "You did this last night?"

"Yeah." Shyly, Justin asked, "You like it?"

For a moment he didn't speak, then he said, "It's amazing." And it was. He couldn't imagine how Justin did it. Even having watched him, the process seemed magical. With photography it was simple: you pointed and clicked. Granted, there was more to it than that: you chose your subject, you had to imagine what the picture would look like before you took it, you had to choose the settings on the camera to try and capture that image in your head but it wasn't like drawing. He couldn’t explain it, except that it felt different. Maybe because he thought of Justin as an artist and he thought of himself as someone who dabbled.

Carefully he refolded the picture and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He thought of the sketch of himself that he'd bought at the Gay and Lesbian Center's art show, that he'd kept in the closet until Justin moved in for good. They'd hung it in the niche by the chaise chair. Whenever he looked at it he imagined Justin watching him as he slept, already so in love with him that he hadn't been able to hide it, drawing him furtively in the night, pouring all of his love into a sketch that he hadn't thought Brian would ever see because it hadn't been about displaying his talent, it'd been about expressing his feelings in the way most natural to him: to draw the object of his affection. He remembered buying it, not quite sure why, just knowing that he had to have it. He'd told himself that he was doing it because he was vain, because it was a good likeness but that hadn't been the real reason. The real reason had been something that he hadn't been able to face, to articulate, still couldn't. Except that he'd responded to a need deep inside him, almost unconsciously. Even now, he still didn't know why he'd purchased it, only that the drawing was a part of it, a part of the bond that held them together.

"You okay?" Justin asked, a little frown between his brows.

"Yeah." He pushed back from the table. "We gotta go, don't we?"

Justin checked his watch. "Shit." 

 

Whereas wandering through the other museums this weekend had been like exploring a foreign country, being in the National Gallery was like rediscovering the place where you lived. The works were at once familiar even to someone who wouldn't necessarily consider themselves well-versed in art. These were the biggies, the ones that had entered pop culture. "Hey," Brian said, pointing to the painting "Bacchus and Ariadne", "They used that on the Crash Test Dummies album cover."

"You like the Crash Test Dummies?"

He shrugged. "They're okay."

Which meant yes. Justin shook his head. Brian would never change. Which was fine with him.

Standing in front of Carravaggio's "Supper at Emmaus" Justin asked, "Did you know he was gay?"

"I saw a film about him. Weird. But good."

"When?"

"A while back. I was fucking this guy who was into art and shit. He had a hard-on for the director. A writer." Graham. And his porno novels. He smiled. Guy had had some imagination.

"Thought you never did the same guy twice?"

Instead of answering, Brian sauntered onwards. Wasn't good to have Justin know everything about his past. A little mystery was good.

Walking through the East Wing Justin exclaimed, "How many paintings did Turner do?" because the National Gallery had a handful too in addition to the ones at the Tate. They all displayed Turner's fascination with light.

They saw Van Gogh's "Sunflowers"--"I'm not cutting off my ear for you," Brian told Justin.--and paintings by Seurat and talked about Stephen Sondheim's musical, Sunday in the Park with George.

"Never saw it," Justin said, "but my mom has the cast recording. It's good. But I like Into the Woods better."

Cause we saw it together, Brian mused to himself. That had been a good night.

Before heading to lunch, they walked around Trafalgar Square and Brian took pictures of Justin standing at the base.

"Let me take one of you."

"That's okay."

"No, I want to," Justin insisted so Brian surrendered the camera and posed while Justin took a couple shots of him and hoped the teen hadn't cut off his head. Truthfully, he was anxious to get to the restaurant, Asia de Cuba. It was located in the St. Martins Lane Hotel which was owned by Ian Schrager and had been designed by Phillippe Starck. He would have loved to have stayed in the hotel but he had sensed that Justin preferred something quieter, more romantic, and he had to admit that it was nice to leave the hubbub at night and return to the quiet and serenity of the Montague.

Walking through the revolving doors of the hotel, Justin could see why Brian had been excited about coming here. It reminded him of the loft: minimalist and tasteful. But, somehow, he liked their hotel better. The Montague felt like real people stayed there, people who ate Cheerios and played video games and liked watching television, whereas the St. Martins Lane felt like the people who stayed there probably were on television. The beautiful people. Brian's kind of people. Sometimes it amazed him that they had ever gotten together when they hadn't had anything in common. Or so it had seemed. Over the years he'd begun to realize that they did have things in common or, maybe, they were growing together, changing their tastes in subtle ways to fit one another. He actually loved the loft even though it was nothing like any place he'd ever imagined himself living in. It was beautiful. This hotel was beautiful. He wondered what was going to happen when he and Brian went looking for a new place to live. The loft was rapidly becoming too small to hold them and all their stuff. Plus, Gus was growing up and, eventually, he'd be too big to share their bed. They needed a bigger place. Looking around at the walls painted in cool, muted tones and the hip, artsy furniture that populated the hotel, Justin tried to imagine what their house would look like, tried to imagine himself living in a place like this. Oh well, it wasn't like they were moving tomorrow.

Although they were eating in the main dining room, Brian got the maitre d' to show them the Backroom, an all white marble room with a one of a kind Starck-designed crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "Beautiful," he pronounced it and returned to the dining room quite content.

Justin noticed that Starck had a thing for blue neon too. Maybe because it was soothing. The food was interesting. He refused to eat the tuna tartare but he did eat the wonton crisps that came with it, dipping them in the lime vinaigrette. The beef spring rolls were delicious as were the shrimp satay. The calamari salad was, as Daphne would have said, 'to die for' as was dessert: banana and chocolate mousses with a caramel sauce. "We should have come here last night for dinner," he told Brian and the man agreed, both of them imagining how good the pot roasted pork with a honey and rum glaze would have tasted or the seabass stuffed with crab. But the view at the Savoy had been unbeatable. And they imagined that it would have been loud and crowded at Asia de Cuba whereas they had been able to carry on a private conversation at the River Restaurant while looking out at the Thames. 

 

Having walked from the restaurant to get rid of the full feeling from lunch, they set out to explore Covent Garden Market, especially the Apple Market and Jubilee Market where small, independent sellers marketed their wares. Although most of the activity took place Tuesday through Sunday and the stalls that sold arts and crafts were closed on Monday, the antique stalls were open as were the ones selling assorted bric-a-brac.

Justin stopped at one that sold vintage clothing and picked up a brightly colored scarf. Nana Rose would love it and it'd go perfectly with some of her stuff. He could just see her with it on, preening for all to see. He smiled and ran his fingers over the cloth.

"That's colorful," Brian said of it. "Your mom?"

"No." Too late he realized that he'd have to tell Brian the truth and he didn't have any idea how he'd take it.

"Deb?" Although it wasn't really her style. Too tame.

"Nope." He tried to keep it light, hoped Brian would leave it alone but he knew that he wouldn't.

Brian laughed. "Not Lindsay or Mel?"

"Uh-uh." Brian, _let it go._

"I know! Daphne," he said, pleased that he'd finally guessed correctly although they were running out of women that they both knew anyway. Rennie would never wear anything like that and Molly was too young. His mom was out of the question: she'd spontaneously combust.

"No," replied Justin, in a slightly subdued tone.

What had started out as idle curiosity and progressed into a game had now become something else and Brian wasn't sure if he wanted to continue. But he'd come this far. "Then who?"

Justin paused, with the cloth in his hand. "Nana Rose."

"Oh." He took a step towards another stall and stopped, uncertain as to what to do or say.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?"

He attempted to shrug it off. "Why should I care?"

But Justin noticed that he hadn't denied it. "Brian—"

"It doesn't matter." He took a deep breath and stopped. Justin neared him. The woman running the stall seemed to be doing her best not to overhear their conversation although she was less than five feet away. They should have gone outside—should have just dropped it but he couldn't. He'd promised Drew, promised Justin that they would talk things out and he didn't know if his courage would hold out if they had to walk outside because he was afraid, scared to death of unraveling what they had worked so hard to piece back together. Looking away from Justin, he said, "I know that it shouldn't bother me… but it does. Why should I care about you buying something for a woman who's old enough to be your fuckin grandmother? I shouldn't. I don't. Except…" Fuck. He did not want to get into this right now. "I feel like… like it's not really about her, that it's really just a way for you to hold onto Xavier."

Justin felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. "Brian—" It wasn't fair, that wasn't what he was doing. Ordinarily, it would have been hard to keep his voice down, to speak in a normal tone but he was so tired that it wasn't a problem. "I don't know what else I can do. I don't know why you won't believe me. I keep telling you that it's over, that it's done with and you keep calling me a liar."

"No—"

"What more do you want from me? What can I do to prove to you that I love you?" He blinked a couple of times to keep them away but the tears came anyway because it was so not fair, he just— "I'm so tired… of all of this. I just…" and he walked off, his words trailing behind him because he couldn't continue the conversation, he just couldn't.

Left alone, Brian didn't dare look after him. Or follow. He stood, lost in indecision, trapped by a helplessness that was all to familiar. Christ. What the fuck was he doing? Hearing a sound behind him, he half-turned, caught the stall's owner ducking her head, trying to look away from him. She'd probably heard every word. "I'm sorry," he said. "Can't be good for business."

"What?" she asked smiling. "Two gorgeous men hanging around my place?"

He would have returned her smile if he could. "Us. Arguing." Absentmindedly he rubbed his ring. "All we seem to do anymore."

"You must really love each other then."

That made him laugh. "Why? Because we fight like cats and dogs?"

"You wouldn't, otherwise," she explained.

Moving closer to her table, he asked, "So that's what couples do? Argue all the time?"

"The ones that love each other. If you didn't care, you wouldn't bother to fight."

He shook his head. "Here I was hoping one day we'd get it right, one day we'd stop." As he debated mentally whether or not he should go after Justin, he thought of the drawing the teenager had given him. Removed it from his pocket and looked at it, forgetting he wasn't alone.

The owner peered over his arm. "He draw that?"

"Yeah."

"He's good."

"He's in art school."

"Here?"

"Back in the States."

"Ah." Giving the drawing another look, she went back to the booth and busied herself with refolding the scarf Justin had been admiring. "You going to go after him?" He turned and she waved a hand. "Sorry. None of my business."

"No," he replied, "it's okay. Your stall."

Pausing, she asked, "Well?"

"He's been through so much shit with me. Because of me." Studied the picture. "Things he never should have had to deal with. I know it's not fair. And it's not worth it either. I'm not worth it."

"I'd wager he doesn't feel that way."

"Yeah, he does. He just won't say it. Because he thinks I'm not strong enough to hear it."

The woman shook her head. "He knows how strong you are. You can see it in that drawing." She gestured to it. "Look at it. Tell me you don't see it."

So he looked, really studied the drawing, seeing nothing and, just as he was about to tell her so, he saw it, the strength implied in his posture, in his features, a strength Justin saw in him, that he depended on. "He shouldn't," he said half to himself.

"But he does." A mischievous look lit up her face. "So? What are you going to do?"

And she reminded him so much of Deb at that moment that he chuckled. "You've got a twin in Pittsburgh."

"Everyone does somewhere, they say."

He lifted the scarf. "How much?"

"Even trade. It for the sketch." But he shook his head. "Didn't think so. Twenty-five quid."

Figuring that Justin had probably left the market altogether, Brian went outside and found him sitting on a bench as far from the other shoppers as possible. He could tell, when Justin looked up at his arrival, that he'd been crying. And why not? He'd felt like crying himself. Brian sat next to him and held out the bag with the scarf inside. "Here."

"I don't want it."

"It's not for you. It's for Nana Rose."

With very little grace, Justin took the bag and stuffed it into his backpack.

Brian watched the traffic in and out of the market for a while before speaking. "I'm sorry."

"You always say that."

"And I always mean it."

"I—" Helplessly, "Brian…"

He sniffled. Thumbed his eyes. He couldn't cry here, not in front of all these fucking people, not on their fucking vacation, their honeymoon as they jokingly (and not so jokingly) called it. He grimaced and took out the drawing once more. Handed it to Justin. "I can't be that person all the time," he explained. "I can't always be strong or know what to do."

"I've never asked you to," Justin countered.

"Sometimes, I get scared, Justin."

"I get scared too."

"I know, baby."

"Sometimes, I just need you to understand and… it hurts when you don't because I don't know how to explain it, what I feel—" _Because you should know. You're part of me and you should know. But you don't._

Brian took the teen into his arms and held him close. "I know how you feel," he told him. Whispered in his ear, struggling to breathe through a throat that had suddenly constricted, "You're my life. Don't you know that?"

Leaning his forehead against Brian's shoulder, Justin tightened his hold on the man.

"You're crushing my picture," Brian said and they parted, Justin snickering a little.

"Asshole."

"That's me. And you love me, don't you?" Justin handed him the sketch and stood up, preparing to leave him on the bench. But Brian caught hold of the back of his shirt and kept him from going very far. "Don’t you?"

Justin leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. 

 

Before they left the area, they stopped in front of St. Paul's Church and watched the street performers. There was a young violin player serenading the crowd, his dark hair falling over into his eyes. Brian tossed a couple of pounds into his case but Justin tugged on his lover's arm and whispered as they left, "I hate violin music." 

 

"You're not ordering the kangaroo?" Justin asked begging Brian with his eyes not to.

"I've never had it."

"It's quite good," said the waiter.

"Don't tell him that."

Brian rolled his eyes. He'd never hear the end of it if he ordered the kangaroo because every time they ate together Justin would remember it—and they had way too many meals left in this lifetime to have together. "I've changed my mind. I'll have the seared scallops."

Breathing easier, Justin ordered an appetizer as well. "The avacado and spring vegetable rice paper roll, please."

"Very good," the waiter replied and he went away to get their starters while they mused over the main courses.

"I bet Gus is gonna love his new teddy bear."

Brian grunted. "He'd better. You'd think it was made of gold instead of flammable materials."

"But I don't think it'll take Beh's place."

Grinning, Brian said, "Did you know Lindsay had his leathers cleaned?"

Justin laughed. "No way."

"I wonder what the dry cleaners thought when they got the chaps?"

"And the harness."

"She got shoe leather polish for that."

"You gonna wait until his birthday to give him the new bear?"

"And not have a new toy for him when we get back?"

"You ever have partridge?" Brian shook his head. "I think he'll be so glad to see us he won't care about any old toy." He closed the menu. "I think I'm gonna get the partridge."

"Oh, you can eat partridge in a pear tree but I can't have kangaroo?"

Ignoring him, Justin looked around. Not as cool in tone as Asia de Cuba, the Sugar Club seemed to strike just the right balance between being hip and being inviting. There was a warmth about it that made him feel comfortable whereas Asia de Cuba had made him aware of his every flaw. Still, the food had been good.

Brian sipped on his cocktail and watched his partner people-watch. Thought about the episode they'd had at the Apple Market, proof that they still had a ways to go before they'd completely healed the rift between them. Which was what Drew had told him before he left Pittsburgh. _"Don't expect everything to be hunky dory just because you're on vacation." "Hunky dory?" "Shut up and listen to what I'm saying." "I am listening."_ And he had been. Glancing up as the waiter reappeared, he answered, in response to his query, "The grilled fillet steak. Rare."

"I'll have the partridge," Justin told him and the waiter went away again. "He's cute."

"Uh-huh," replied Brian, preparing to taste the scallops to see if they were as juicy as they looked.

"But not as cute as you." He waited for Brian to look up and when he did, he smiled.

"Eat your food and stop flirting with me."

"Is it working?"

"Ask me later."

With a devious laugh, Justin stuffed one of the spring rolls in his mouth.

"What technique," observed Brian, in awe of the teen's ability.

"It was just a little one," he explained and they both nearly spit out their food giggling. 

 

Tumbling out into the late night air, having had many glasses of wine apiece, the two raved about the fabulous food they'd had that day and decided to walk for a while to try and burn off some calories—before they got back to the room, that is—and to clear their heads.

As they passed the movie theatres in Leicester Square, Brian asked if Justin wanted to go in and see a flick.

"Nope." He headed for the park. "Let's just hang out. Okay?"

"Whatever," Brian replied and followed.

Somewhere someone was playing The Counting Crows and Justin bopped across the street, head keeping rhythm with the music. By the time they reached the fountain, he was openly dancing. Arms up over his head, Justin snapped his fingers to the beat and bounced the way he did on the dance floor at Babylon. Brian smiled and resisted any attempts by the teen to get him to dance with him.

 _"Into the greater grey that covers over every day_ …" 3

"Come on," Justin said and Brian relented because he was irresistible, he was like the Pied Piper, and the night seemed magical even though it was nothing like the fairy tales. Laughing, they danced around the fountain, Justin leading the way and Brian trying to keep up.

_"I've been up all night/ I might sleep all day/ Get your dreams just right/ Then let 'em slip away/ I might sleep all day…./ Oh, it's too late to get high now…"_

 

 

He would have been hard-pressed to name a more beautiful view than that of his lover's body stretched out on the bed. Naked. Lying on his belly, his long, lean figure pale against the dark blue backdrop of the comforter. While it was true that he didn't possess a voluptuous bubble butt like Justin's, Brian often said that he had all that he could handle and Justin tended to agree. It was enough for him as well. More than enough to tempt him to touch the smooth mounds. So warm beneath his palm…

Brian reached around and smacked his hand away. "No," he muttered, head still buried in his pillow.

Trying again only to be rebuffed once more, Justin complained, "Why not?" He'd come home hungry and to have Brian tease him like this wasn’t fair. "Come on."

"I'm tired." It was true, he was pretty beat having put in a couple of extra long days in preparation for their trip later in the week.

But Justin was persistent. Again he laid his hand upon Brian's flank, only this time he stroked it as well. "I could make you feel better," he promised, letting his thumb run along the cleft between his cheeks. "Give you a massage."

"Uh-uh," came Brian's refusal but Justin noticed that his objection had lost some of its intensity. So he pressed his case, straddling Brian's legs and using both hands to ply the man's flesh, starting with his ass and moving down over the backs of his thighs, up over his behind again, then onto his waist, up his spine, over his shoulder blades, and along his neck, necessitating that Justin move up Brian's body as well, his genitals pressing against Brian's buttocks. Leaning forward, he kissed the nape of his partner's neck. "Feel better?" he whispered.

Turning his head to the side, Brian said in a husky voice, "Not yet."

Lying fully against him, Justin ran his hands up and down his partner's body, loving the feel of Brian's muscles and skin beneath his own chest, belly, and thighs. They turned onto their sides, Justin still up against Brian's back, and the teen reached around and stroked the man's torso, tugging on his nipples just a bit before fanning his fingers over his flat abdomen, the curly hairs of Brian's pubic area tickling his palm. Brian made a noise, pleased, and Justin continued his one-handed explorations, stroking Brian's thighs, moving his hand down along the slender columns as far as he could reach. Returning to his groin, the teen wrapped his fingers around his lover's penis. Gave him a few gentle strokes before tightening his grip and beginning again. In response, Brian thickened in his hand and Justin kissed his shoulder while continuing to pull. As Brian began to harden, Justin let go and reached for the lube. Wet his palm and took hold of him again. Repeatedly, he moved his hand up and down the stiff shaft, the lubricant making his movements smooth and easy. Head against Brian's shoulder, he could hear the change in the man's breathing just at the moment his cock throbbed. "Yes," Justin sighed and he pumped Brian again, feeling the head swell beneath his fingers. And even though his hand was already moist with lube, he knew the moment Brian began to leak, making his cock even more slippery to hold. Giving it one last slow stroke, Justin let go.

He eased Brian halfway onto his stomach. Then, from behind, he reached between his lover's thighs and ran his fingers along his perineum, massaging him from anus to balls. Listening to Brian's sharp intake of breath, he knew his motions had had the desired effect. Brian spread his legs open even wider and Justin continued to stroke the tight muscle until it was relaxed and warm. He cupped Brian's scrotum and rolled the man's balls in his palm, knowing that, by now, the tip of Brian's cock would be dripping with precum. He longed to lick the glistening drops from the head, to suck Brian's dick until he screamed, but was loathe to stop what he was doing. Besides, his own cock was growing impatient, longing to slide inside Brian's clenching hole.

Releasing him, Justin retraced his steps until his fingers were buried between his partner's cheeks, rubbing up against the knotted hole hidden in their depths, playing among the folds. Brian hissed through his teeth as the teen's fingertip entered him. Applying steady pressure, Justin slowly inched forward, the lube easing the way. Once his finger had sunk entirely inside Brian, he paused, then just as slowly withdrew it. He closed his eyes and imagined that he was his finger, exploring his lover's body, confined within the warm walls of his asshole. He could imagine the pleasure he'd give Brian, licking him, eating him from the inside. He could see Brian's body shuddering in ecstasy as his miniature partner made love to him from deep within with his entire body: face, nipples, cock, and thighs pressed into his flesh, undulating against him, vibrating with desire. The thought made him even harder.

After a few more trips inside, he added a second finger and felt Brian open up even wider to accept them both. He would open up even wider still for Justin's cock when it came demanding entrance, the thick head stretching his muscles painfully even as it plowed forward to give him pleasure.

Brian moaned into his pillow. Fuck, it felt so good, Justin's strong fingers sliding in and out of his hole, never leaving it entirely, the tips hooking upwards at the end of their withdrawal, curling just inside his swollen asshole. It felt so good… and his dick was so hard he thought he'd fuck a hole in the mattress if given the chance. Reaching down, he touched the head; it was slimy with precum and opened letting the tip of his finger rub against the inside. He gasped, "Oh…"

Removing his fingers, Justin put on a condom and lubed his dick. Neither one of them could wait any longer. Holding Brian open with one hand, he lodged his cockhead against his hole and pushed.

"Yes…" Brian moaned and Justin slid home, pubes tickling his ass. He rolled all the way over onto his belly, raising his hips a little.

Justin shifted positions, got on his knees and supported his weight on his hands. Gently, he rocked against Brian, fucking his lover tenderly.

With each stroke, Brian realized how much he'd needed this, to feel protected, cherished; to be pleasured by his lover, his man.

As Brian's moans increased, Justin changed positions again, this time kneeling upright between his legs, hands on Brian's hips to hold him in place as he quickened his thrusts, pumping harder and harder, thighs slapping against Brian's ass.

He could feel it, the cum filling his balls, a tingling feeling accompanying the pressure. Grunting, groaning, he felt the sensation expand to encompass his entire cock, his groin, his hole, his belly, and his chest. His entire body tingled as if Justin were fucking him all over. Mouth wide open, he panted as the sensation increased a hundredfold. He felt his balls seize up and he moaned, cloudy liquid dripping from the tip of his cock. Over and over his pisshole opened and cum surged forth until he was drained. A last drop hung suspended from the head, swaying with each breath.

Justin continued to fuck him, riding his ass with abandon, his cock rarely sliding out more than an inch or two, wanting to fuck his way up to Brian's throat, to choke him with his throbbing meat. God, he loved his tight ass, loved reaming him, fucking him until he was worn out. Grimacing, Justin slammed into Brian's hole one last time and pulled out. Removed the condom from his cock and showered his ass with cum. Hand around his dick, he directed the flow until Brian's cheeks were covered, marking him as his own. And he longed for the days when he would have fucked Brian bareback and watched his jizz trickle from his gaping hole. Bending over, he kissed Brian's buttocks and rested his face against his skin, fingers sliding over his anus, massaging the rosy edges with spunk and sweat. 

 

Having enjoyed the previous night's session enormously, Brian had awakened wanting more and he and Justin had fucked for half an hour before getting ready for work, the result being that he was a tiny bit sore as he settled down into his office chair to wait for Cynthia to arrive. He hoped she wouldn’t notice or she'd tease him all day. Although it'd be worth it. As he recalled how he'd begged Justin to fuck him harder, he smiled and blushed at the same time. And, of course, that's when she waltzed through the door.

"Looks like somebody got lucky last night. Or was it this morning? Maybe both?"

Scowling, he removed his sterling silver cigarette case, the one Justin had bought him in the Bahamas, and ignored her question. "What do I have?"

Cynthia grinned and sat across from him. Opened the book. "Both, huh?"

"And who was it who wanted a bottle of French perfume from a real Paris boutique?" he threatened.

Assuming a serious mien she flipped to the day's date. "Spoilsport."

"That's not what Justin said last night," he smirked. "Or this morning." Flicked the tip of his tongue.

She laughed and began going over the day's activities while Brian's mind wandered between Justin's thighs, wondering if he could persuade his lover to give a repeat performance tonight after the Munchers' going away party. 

 

As she watched the smile on Justin's face grow wider and wider, the passing hours bringing him one day closer to his dream trip to Europe, Deb found herself getting excited for him. Once or twice someone asked the teen why he was so happy and he told them, eyes brighter than any star in the sky, "I'm going to Europe."

As much as he liked working in the diner, he was looking forward to a month away from it and Pittsburgh.

Unable to resist, she asked him finally, "So, you ready to go?"

He laughed, seeing right through her. "I guess I look a little gooney, huh?"

She hugged him. "You look beautiful. I'm so happy for you, Sunshine."

His smile grew impossibly broader. "I can't believe it. I keep thinking I'm gonna wake up and have to go to class or something." He shook his head.

"You deserve it. Both of you." Kissing him soundly, she left him trying to wipe off her lipstick. 

 

Brian came in around noon and the entire diner was treated to the sight of them cuddling in a booth and kissing like they hadn't just seen each other three and a half hours earlier. When Mikey, Ted, and Emmett arrived, they parted but Justin stayed with them, on his lunch break, practically sitting in Brian's lap. Of course, it was a little tight as Debbie joined them too, so he had an excuse, not that he needed one. At the end of lunch Justin hung back with Brian and they picked up where they'd left off, kissing for another couple minutes before the ad exec said he absolutely had to go. After he'd gone, Deb asked, "Aren't you two going to Europe together?"

Justin frowned. "Yeah."

"Then why are you acting like you're gonna be apart for the next month?"

"Cause we've been apart for the last two," he explained and she understood.

"However you fixed things, you did good. I've never seen him happier."

And not wanting to get into it, he nodded, accepting the praise. He guessed eventually they'd have to explain but not yet. He really hoped they could put it out of their minds tonight at the party because he knew Mikey and Lindsay, in particular, were dying to know what had happened and they knew Brian was still seeing Drew but neither of them had pushed it, figuring Brian would let them in on it in his own time. Maybe he would but Justin got the feeling that it might be the one thing he'd never tell them. It seemed to be something between the two of them and no one else, except Drew. But he'd been there that terrible morning when everything had come so close to being destroyed.

"Sunshine?"

He smiled, realizing he'd let his thoughts show on his face. "Four more hours to go," he said and went to bus a table whose party had just left. 

 

Although they'd been putting things aside for their trip for days now, they waited until that evening to go through their clothes and decide exactly what to take. As Brian began assembling his wardrobe, Justin whistled. Brian stopped. "What?"

"You're taking all that?"

"Yeah."

"Brian, we have to carry that stuff on trains."

"So?" It wasn't as if either one of them was a ninety pound weakling.

"How many suits are you bringing?"

"Two. One dark, one light."

"How many pairs of slacks?"

"Four."

"How many pairs of jeans?"

"Three."

"Shirts?"

"Five."

"Sweaters?"

"Four."

"Tee shirts?"

"Five."

"Shorts?"

"Two for the gym and two for sightseeing."

"And how many pairs of shoes?"

"One pair of sneakers for the gym, one pair of walking shoes, and three pairs of boots."

"Brian!"

"What?"

"It's too much."

"It's the bare minimum." Of course, he fully intended to pick up a few things while they were abroad but they were extras.

"And you haven't even considered all the other stuff you have to take."

"We're going to be gone for a month," he said, thinking maybe Justin hadn't gotten it yet.

"You can't take all that stuff." That was final.

Brian heard the reprimand in his voice and resented it. "I—"

"They'll have dry cleaners."

"But—"

Justin wouldn't give up the advantage. "Besides all the books and the web sites say you should be able to fit everything into one carry-on bag."

"What?!"

"Did you know that out of every two hundred people flying, one person's luggage gets lost or misdirected?"

"One in two hundred?" That took him aback a little.

"Uh-huh. That's bye-bye Prada shoes, bye-bye Armani suit." He could tell that had gotten through. "But if you want to bring all this stuff and risk it being lost or sent to Walla Walla Washington, we'll have to take a bigger suitcase and check it."

"Fine."

Justin waited.

"One carry-on bag," he grumbled.

Justin kissed him. "You'll live, trust me. And if you color coordinate, you can have up to sixty different outfits. More than enough for a month."

Under his breath, Brian muttered, "Asshole." He hated it when Justin was right about petty shit.

"What was that?"

In his best falsetto, he replied, "Nothing, dear."

So Justin helped Brian reduce his travel wardrobe down to six pairs of pants (including the ones he'd be wearing on the plane), ten tops (ditto) and one suit which he promised the man he'd be able to fit inside a standard carry-on bag. Tomorrow. They were both too tired tonight and they had to leave for the party soon. When they were done putting back the clothes Brian would leave home, Justin could have sworn he saw a tear in his eye. Kissing him gently, Justin teased him promising him they'd be there when he got back.

As he slipped away, Brian smacked him on the butt and felt much better. And Justin's ass didn't feel bad either. 

 

"Let's hear your itinerary again," Vic prompted and Justin recited it from memory for the small group which included his mom and Deb.

"First we're flying to London and then Rome and then we're taking a train to Naples for a day, spending another couple of days in Rome, then taking the train to Florence, and from Florence we're going to Venice and while we're there we're taking a day trip to Milan by train. Then we fly to Barcelona, stay a few days and take the train to Madrid. We go from Madrid by train to Bilbao, and fly from there to Paris, and come back home on the eighteenth." It exhausted him just saying all of that much less doing it.

"Oh, it sounds fabulous, Sunshine," Deb told him. "You'll love Italy."

"You'll love the food," promised Vic.

"And the art," his mom added.

"Brian swore we could go to as many museums as I wanted."

Across the room, Lindsay asked, "Did you?"

"Yeah," he replied feigning being put-out by it. "It was the only way I was going to get a day in Milan."

"Mecca for the fashionistas," teased Ted.

"Every label queen should make at least one pilgrimage to Milan during his lifetime," Mel explained.

"The Prada Homeland," said Mikey.

Jeff laughed. "I hear they make you take your shoes off inside the store. Holy ground. Unless you're wearing Prada already."

"And what else would you wear?" Mikey commented as if it were foolish to assume otherwise.

"Ask him how many pairs he's taking," said Justin.

"How many?"

"Not nearly enough," complained Brian. "One pair of Prada boots, one pair of Zegna, and my Miu Mius."

"Poor baby," said Lindsay patting his arm.

As if he could barely contain his joy, he boasted, "But I'm getting a new pair of shoes on the trip. And a new suit."

Everyone laughed, he was so happy.

Gus tottered over from where he had been playing with Molly and Daphne, who was home for the summer and back from her own vacation in Florida. "Dadda."

Brian picked the baby up. "What?" Gus kissed him sloppily the way he always did and Brian laughed. "Least we've got a few years yet to work on your technique."

"Dadda. Dadda, go." He wanted to ride with Brian in the Jeep; he loved it. "Car, Dadda." Car was one of the words he knew quite well. He could say juice but Jeep seemed to elude him, sometimes he'd get out Je but the 'p' was rarely pronounced. As for Justin, with its st combination, it also seemed to be a word he couldn't quite master; although they all suspected he could probably say Jusin, he just didn't.

"Not today, Sonny Boy." He shook his head and smooched the toddler. "When Dadda gets back. Promise. Just you, me, Pooh, and Beh."

Despite evidence to the contrary, the guys still couldn't believe that Brian was actually a good father. Two more miracles and he'd qualify for sainthood. Or maybe just one, the other miracle being him and Justin period.

Lindsay frowned a little. "I don't know how I’m going to explain why he can't see you, especially for a whole month."

"Luckily he has no concept of time," explained Mel. "A day, a month, a week, it's all the same to him."

"Still, he's going to miss Brian and Justin and he won't understand why they're gone. So you'd better call," Lindsay warned.

"We'll call," promised Justin and he came over and kissed Gus too. The baby squealed and demanded Justin hold him.

Brian, freed for the moment, went over and sat next to Daphne and Molly, members of the Straight Girls for Brian Kinney Fan Club as Justin called them. "Well, ladies, what can I bring you back from Europe?"

"A Lippizaner," said Molly without hesitation. She definitely had a thing for horses.

"Might be hard to fit into my carry-on."

Molly giggled. "A model, silly."

"Oh…"

Watching them, Jenn told Deb and Vic, "I heard her talking to her little friends the other day and she was showing them a picture of Brian and Justin. Well, one of them asked her who Brian was and she said, " Jenn paused and smiled, "she told them Brian was her brother's husband."

Deb and Vic cracked up. "I guess he is," said Deb. "Or as close as he's ever going to get to having one."

Vic said, "Molly would have made the perfect flower girl," and the three older adults laughed again, just envisioning it.

Since Daphne hadn't answered his question, Brian prompted her. "And what about my favorite co-ed?"

Sulking a little, she replied, "How about a gorgeous, new, Italian boyfriend."

"What happened to your old one?"

"Jerk." She rolled her eyes. Guys. Who could trust them? That's why she was never getting married. Better to be free to drop 'em as soon as they showed their true colors which was invariably a lovely shade of asshole.

"Ah," he said knowingly. "I'll see what I can do."

"Brian?" asked Molly.

"Yeah?"

She smiled sweetly, a lower wattage version of Justin's. "Could you be my boyfriend?"

"What about Justin?" he asked, amused.

"We could share." After all, her mom was always telling her to share with others.

Only, the adults paused, all of them aware of what had happened between Brian and Justin and Xavier.

Quietly, Brian said, "I don't think… I don't think Justin would want to share," he told her and then he rose and padded out the front door. Wandered about the Munchers' front yard waiting for Justin to come out.

The teen did and kicked at the ground absent-mindedly. "I'm kinda glad we don't have a lawn. I hate cutting grass."

"Yeah." But he knew the real reason Justin had come out and the real question. "I'm all right." He chuckled. "It's funny that's all. How it catches you when you're not looking."

"I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am."

"You don't have to." Brian smiled and the sight of it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Fuck it. We're flying to Europe tomorrow and nothing's going to ruin it." They kissed and as they parted, Brian saw his mother pull up in her car. In his dad's car, to be exact. She'd hardly driven it when he was alive but now that he was dead, she'd taken to tooling around town in it. Brian waved, as did Justin, and they stayed outside until she'd gotten out and walked up the pavement.

With a kiss for her son and a nod for Justin, she handed Brian the cake she'd made. "I hope I'm not too late," she said, touching the nape of her neck nervously.

"Perfect timing," Justin said, holding the door open for her and Brian.

Throughout the rest of the evening Joanie watched the two lovers for signs of any lingering problems and could detect none. When she had a chance she drew Deb aside and asked, "Do you know what happened?"

"You mean with Xavier?"

"Brian said that Justin had fallen in love with someone else but that it was over."

Realizing he hadn't told her the whole story and with good reason, Deb didn't bother to enlighten her. "It is. Thank God. I don't know how but they worked it out. I'm proud of 'em."

Joanie hesitated before speaking. "I never said 'Thank you.' "

"For what?"

"For being there when he needed someone. I… I know I wasn't much of a mother to him sometimes…"

"It's never too late," said Debbie.

Joanie watched Justin come up behind Brian and wrap his arms around his waist, lay his head upon his back. Without acknowledging his presence, Brian continued talking to Ted and Mikey but there was a slight difference in his demeanor. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly but she knew Justin had done that, just by touching him. "I'm glad he has Justin."

"I'm glad they've got each other. I don't think either one of them would be here if it hadn't been for the other one."

Around Gus' bed time, the two guests of honor excused themselves and carried the toddler upstairs for his bath. It was the last time they'd see him for a month.

As he bathed his son, squeezing warm water over his back, the baby giggling and trying to pull his hair, Brian suddenly cupped Gus' cheek and looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in a long while. He was growing up right before their eyes. In a little less than two months he'd be two years old. The terrible twos. And if Gus had inherited anything else from Brian other than his hair, eyes, and mouth, they were all going to be in for it. Big time. He laughed softly. "I'm gonna miss him."

"Me too," said Justin. "I can't wait until he's older and we can take him with us."

"And he can have his own room," Brian said, thinking of all the great sex they'd have to forgo if he slept in theirs.

At that moment, Gus splashed in the water, splattering the both of them.

"Gus!" Brian moved away and dabbed at the shirt with a towel. "Remind me to take my shirt off the next time we bathe him."

Justin slipped his hand between the buttons. "Okay."

"Not in front of the minor," he warned.

"Pooh!"

"What?"

"Dadda, Pooh." Which was Gus' way of saying, 'Kiss him.' So Justin did. And the baby clapped his hands.

"See? He approves."

"I think we've got a future sex fiend on our hands."

As Brian returned to take the baby out of his bath, Justin asked, "Are we surprised?" 

 

He lay in bed contented, the source of his contentment asleep on his chest. Friday morning they'd be in Heathrow Airport waiting to go through Customs. His first trip abroad, really abroad, if you didn't count Mexico and Canada and the Caribbean. A year ago when he'd made the off-hand promise to Justin, he hadn't really thought they'd go. But after their magical trip to the Bahamas it'd begun to seem possible and after New Year's Day it'd become something they had to do, a postponed honeymoon of sorts. In April he hadn't been sure of anything, much less of a trip abroad but he'd earmarked the money for it and hadn't spent it, hoping that things would change between them but not entirely convinced that they would. With Xavier out of the picture in May, the trip had seemed possible again and he'd gotten Cynthia right on it, making reservations and setting up itineraries, and then everything fell apart and he hadn't believed he'd make it one more night much less survive to go to Europe in two months. But he had. He and Justin had come through it all still together, more committed to their relationship and to one another than ever before because now they understood just what was at stake: their very lives.

Tightening his hold on Justin, Brian closed his eyes and dreamt of the Eiffel Tower. 

 

Even though Brian had opted to go to work on Thursday (more to please Ryder than anything else) Justin had taken the day off needing to run some errands and to take care of last minute details for the trip. He also had the checklist of things Cynthia had drawn up for them and it was his job to make sure they had accounted for everything on it. So he drove Brian to his building, kissed him, and made plans to be back at four thirty to pick him up so that they could go get Mikey and head for the airport. Brian dropped off, Justin went to get Daphne: they were spending the day together, her keeping him company while he did the hundred things that needed to be done before their flight that evening.

She was waiting in the driveway when he arrived at her house. Sliding in, she asked, "What's first?"

First thing on the agenda was to go home and make sure they had everything on Cynthia's list. If not, they'd have time to go out and get it or to take care of it. Mikey had promised to come by and check on things since he was keeping the Jeep but they still needed to make arrangements for the paper to stop delivery temporarily and for the maid not to come again after Friday. Although they'd told her a week ago, he called her just to remind her.

"So why don't you leave some of this stuff for her to do?"

"She's doing the laundry and cleaning up and taking out the trash. Besides, I don't mind."

The building super was charged with putting their mail in a bin to keep until they returned. Daphne watched as Justin went through the bills to make sure Brian had written checks for all the ones that weren't automatically deducted from his account. They would go to Cynthia with a note reminding her when to mail each one off.

Since Michael wasn't certain to come over every day, Justin and Daphne put the lamps on a timer so that the place would look lived in. After fixing the lights, they went around and unplugged most of the other appliances. Fire hazards. That done, the two teens checked the fridge, tossing anything that would go bad while Brian and Justin were away. Luckily, their refrigerator was generally pretty bare so that didn't take long.

"What time are you guys leaving?"

"Seven fifty-five. There's a layover at JFK."

"And then it's how long?"

"Not quite seven hours. We're getting into Heathrow at eleven thirty tomorrow morning their time."

The refrigerator cleaned, they turned to the things on the list that the two men needed to take on their trip. Although he'd sworn not to do any work on their vacation, Brian was taking his laptop, so Justin packed it in its case and made sure the battery pack was in there too.

Next, they went through the checklist, with Daphne reading off the items while Justin made sure they had them before he packed everything.

He laid their carry-on bags on the bed and opened them both. Removed the two organizers from inside, one larger than the other.

"Those are all the bags you're taking?"

"Yeah. It's called packing light. I found it on a web site. You put all of your underwear and belts and ties and shit in the organizer and then the organizer goes inside the carry-on so you only have one bag to take with you."

"And you're going to get all this," she held up the list, "in there?"

"Yep. We're dividing up the stuff we both use plus I'm carrying some of it in my backpack."

"What about gifts?"

"Mailing them. It's easier that way."

"You must not be taking a lot of clothes." Which amazed her because Brian was a clothes horse.

Justin pointed to the two stacks of clothes. "Six pairs of pants and ten shirts apiece plus one suit each. And three pairs of shoes."

Daphne glanced at the organizers, the clothes, and then the carry-on bags. "All in there? No way."

"I'm using the bundle method. Found it on the web too. Watch and learn."

With Daphne going down the list, Justin made sure he had each item and divided everything up into three areas: the things that would go into his carry-on bag, the things that would go into his backpack, and the things that would go into Brian's carry-on bag.

Pausing at one of the items, handwritten among the typed ones, Daphne frowned. "Toys and batteries?"

Justin blushed. "Yeah," he replied and reached for a discreetly bundled item to put on Brian's pile.

"What kind of toys?"

His blush deepened. "You know…"

Understanding blossomed. "Oh! Oh…"

"We have sex a lot," he explained. "You need a little variety."

"You're not afraid of someone opening that up and seeing?"

Justin sighed. "I think Brian's hoping someone will."

Daphne giggled and continued down the list.

After he had made sure that everything was on the bed and in one of three piles, he began to pack the organizers.

"Those are so cool," Daphne said as he put their shower things and shaving kits and socks and underwear and assorted miscellaneous items (including the toys, a sewing kit, sun block, vitamins, his allergy medicine, mini umbrellas, travelers raincoats that folded up inside a plastic bag and a first aid kit) into the clear pockets of the organizers.

"My mom bought them as going away gifts," he told her. "They're neat because you can hang them up once you get to the hotel and see everything inside them. I'm carrying the big one in my bag and Brian's got the smaller one because his camera has to go in his suitcase too." After he finished packing the organizers, he rolled them up and put them inside the carry-ons and fitted Brian's camera case inside his as well. Then he arranged their shoes around the edges of the suitcase with the soles touching the sides.

"What about your clothes?"

"They go on top of the organizers." He picked up a pair of Brian's pants. "See? You make sure everything is zipped up and buttoned and then you put the pants in the long way, with the waistband up against the edge of the suitcase. Then you just layer the next pair in the opposite direction." After he'd done the long pants, he put the two pairs of shorts on top. Then he started with the shirts. "The shirts go in widthwise. You put the collar against the side and let the tail hang out. And you alternate them too." He continued until he'd placed all of the shirts in the suitcase. "Then you just bundle everything." He took the tail and the sleeves of the shirt that was second from the top and folded it over the top shirt. Then he folded the top shirt's tail and sleeves over that one. Once he'd formed his first bundle, he continued to fold the clothes over each other until he'd finished. "The suit goes in last," he explained, and he formed a bundle of it too: jacket first with the collar against the back edge of the suitcase, the pants on top of it with the waistband up against the side, then he folded the tail of the jacket up over the pants and then the pants' legs last over the jacket. That done, he strapped everything in. "Finished. It's efficient and it cuts down on wrinkles because you're not making creases in anything."

Amazed that all of those clothes and the organizer and the camera had fit into that one bag, Daphne gave Justin a round of applause. "You're like the Martha Stewart of Pittsburgh."

"Before or after the scandal?" Having done Brian's bag, he turned to his own and repeated his performance, putting the travel pillows, pens, notebooks, his small sketchpad and colored pencils, sightseeing information, and the maps inside his backpack and packing his clothes into the carry-on suitcase. Again, Daphne was impressed.

"What was the name of that web site again?"

Then they went over the documents' checklist: passport, photocopies of their passports, the Customs registration papers for Brian's computer and camera and his CD player and both their watches and cellphones, emergency information, hotel reservations, Eurorail passes to use in Italy and Spain, underground passes for London and Paris, and plane tickets. Both Lindsay and Michael had copies of their itineraries and the numbers of the hotels where they were staying on their trip in case they fell off the face of the earth.

"Travelers cheques in American dollars…" He counted them to make sure he had the right amount. "Cheques in British Pounds… Brian's got the credit cards and the ATM card..." he said, talking more to himself than to her.

"What about yours?"

"Daph, I have like thirty bucks in my checking account."

"So Brian's paying for everything?"

"Well, my mom and dad helped pay for the plane ticket and they gave me five hundred dollars to spend, so I paid for some of the travelers cheques but, yeah, he's paying for everything else."

"You are so lucky," she told Justin. "I mean, it's really--I don’t know… amazing that you're with him."

"Yeah, I know," he said, less than enthusiastically.

"Justin?" she asked, noticing the change.

He shook his head. "I almost ruined everything."

Xavier. "But you didn't. You guys are still together. And you're going to Europe."

She didn't understand. How could she? "No, I mean…" He didn't know if he should tell her but he had to tell someone because it was eating him up inside. "I almost lost him, Daph."

"You mean, Brian was thinking about breaking up?" It'd be unbelievable if he hadn't. After all, a threesome? Maybe for some people but Brian? She still found it hard to believe that her best friend had been involved in an alternative alternative relationship.

Brian had effectively ended their relationship by taking off his ring but that wasn't what he was talking about. "Daph," he paused, "he was…" God, it was so hard to say. "He was thinking about killing himself."

She was stunned. Speechless. If anyone else had said that, she wouldn’t have believed them. Brian didn't seem the type. But Justin knew and if he said Brian had thought about suicide, then it was true. "Why?"

"Because of everything I'd done to him."

"Justin, no."

"It's true." He looked away, the tears having begun. "Me and Cam. We both hurt him so much."

"But Cam's dead."

"It doesn't matter." Justin wiped his eyes but the tears continued. "It--it was eating him up inside, all the things we did to him. I almost lost him, Daph. And I don't know what I would have done…"

She hugged him. "It's okay. He didn't. Because you saved him, right?"

"I was so scared. I've never been so scared in my life. Not even when I woke up in the hospital after Chris Hobbs hit me."

"But Brian's okay now."

"He almost wasn’t. And he still has to see Dr. Drew."

"Which is good."

"What if he had—"

"Listen," she told him, shaking him a little. "Listen. You guys are going on the best vacation ever. And you're gonna have a blast. A lot better than my lame-ass vacation with my parents." Justin laughed, having heard about that fiasco. "And you'll have a whole month to make it up to him."

"I swear I will."

"And then you'll come back home and you'll have a whole lifetime to make things better."

He smiled. "I can do that."

"See?" She tapped her forehead. "Genius. That'll cost you lunch."

"It's a lot less than what Brian pays for Drew, so I guess it's a good deal."

Daphne laughed. "The best deal. Trust me." 

 

Hoping Justin would remember to bring the bills when he came to pick him up, Brian tried to focus on the meeting he was in but it was almost impossible. He didn't really give a shit about this new account because he wouldn't be here to lay the groundwork for the initial campaign. By the time he got back, they'd have already put things into motion and the most he'd be able to do would be to wait until the numbers came back and analyze the data to see if the campaign was effective. If not, then he'd be able to work something up. Which was why he was in this boring meeting. On the off chance that he'd have to come back and work his magic.

Sitting next to him at the table, Cynthia could tell that as far as he was concerned, he was already on the plane to London.

After the meeting, he strolled back to his office intending to dump the few notes he'd taken so that he could walk down the street to find some lunch. Michael was waiting for him. "Hey, what's up?"

"I just wanted to see you before you left for a month."

"You'll be seeing me in five hours when you go with us to the airport."

"I thought we could have lunch."

A euphemism for 'I thought we could talk.' He tossed his legal pad on his desk. "Cool."

Buying a couple of sandwiches at a nearby deli, they took them back to his office and sat at his desk eating.

"So, everything's okay with Justin?" He had to do this carefully. Brian was liable to explode if he didn't approach him in just the right way. Being Brian's friend was sometimes like being on the bomb squad: you never knew when something was going to blow up in your face.

"Yeah." He reached for his soda. "Everything's fine."

"You paused."

"It was really tough, you know?"

"You never said what happened."

Brian closed his eyes momentarily. "No. I didn't."

"And Justin treats you like you were made of glass. Like he's afraid of breaking you."

"Mikey—"

Here it goes. "You thought about killing yourself, didn’t you?" Brian looked up, startled. "Just like before. With Cam."

It took a moment before he could speak. "How did you know?"

He could still see it. "I went to the bathroom, remember, when I came over to see you? I saw the two bottles of sleeping pills, Brian. And I saw the pictures of you and Cam that you'd torn up and put in the trash. I saw the one you'd burned. It was your favorite picture of the two of you. Why do you think I hung around for so long that night?" He'd been scared to death of leaving, of coming back over and finding Brian dead. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Brian blinked back tears. "I didn't want to drag you into it."

"I'm your best friend. You should have told me."

"You were always taking care of me."

"That's not true. We took care of each other."

"You more than me. And all I ever did was fuck things up for you."

"Brian, you didn't mess things up between me and David." When would he ever believe that? "We did that all on our own. I wasn't ready to make a commitment to him. Even if Justin hadn't gotten hurt, we would have broken up eventually. It wasn't meant to be."

"What about Jeff?"

"I like Jeff. A lot." Jeff was… special to him. "But we're taking it slow. We're enjoying ourselves. Besides, I think you and Justin have the Heathcliff and Cathy Award for Torrid Romances sewn up this year."

"Fuck you."

"What made you stop?"

"I didn't want you to blame yourself. I couldn't do that to you."

"No. This time."

"Justin and Drew." He hesitated, unsure if he should confess so much but needing to. Unable to sit any longer, he walked away from the desk. "I almost didn't make it. If Drew hadn't come in when he did… I would have done it, Mikey, with Justin lying asleep in the other room. And even after, while Drew and I were talking, all I kept thinking was that I hoped he'd leave so I could finish it before Justin woke up. Because I couldn't see it, Mikey, I couldn't see past that moment."

"But you didn't."

"Because of Justin."

"He talk you out of it?"

"No." Justin had understood, they had run out of words. "He gave me a choice: live with him or die in his arms." He thought of the boy's words, 'You have to decide.' "He would have done it, Mikey. If I had asked him to."

"And then he would have killed himself." That much was clear to him among so much that wasn't.

"Maybe." He didn't like thinking about that, still couldn't admit it even to himself, that he'd held Justin's life in his hands as well. Because he had been so close to throwing it all away. Except that he hadn't been able to in the end. Because of Justin. "He's so strong. He's the strongest person I know."

"You're strong too. To go through the things you have… Brian…" Michael stood and hugged Brian to him. Whispered in his ear. "Go to Europe, have a fabulous time sightseeing, and clubbing, and fucking Justin every night…" Brian laughed. "And then come back home and have a wonderful life." They parted and he stared into Brian's eyes. "Okay?"

He nodded, too emotional to speak. Michael kissed him and wiped away the tears that remained. 

 

He was leaning over his desk, fiddling with some papers with his back to the door, when he felt someone enter. Not just someone. Justin. Turning, he asked, "You give 'em to her?" Meaning the bills.

"She entered it on her online calendar when she's supposed to mail off each one. She's efficient. You should pay her more." Brian grunted and took the clothes Justin handed to him. He would have to change in his office, then leave his suit with Mikey and the Jeep and hope that his best friend would remember to take it to the loft and hang it up. Whose idea was it anyway for him to leave for the airport directly from the office? He'd just gotten his shoes back on when Justin slipped into his arms. Intending it to be a brief kiss, they found themselves still engaged when Cynthia barged through the door.

"Would you go already?"

Parting from Justin and rummaging through some folders on his desk, Brian asked, "You've got a copy of the itinerary?"

"Yes."

"Which you won't use unless it's an emergency," Justin instructed. Meaning Alan Rickman and his crew of Euro trash terrorists had taken over the building and Brian was the only one who could stop them.

"Right." Cynthia came around and took Brian's papers from him. "I'll put everything away. Now, go. Have a good time." She handed him his briefcase.

"All right. I'm going." He kissed her on the cheek. "See you next month."

Justin bussed her too. "Bye."

"Have a great time," she said wiggling her fingers. Whispered loudly, "Perfume."

They made it downstairs and to the Jeep in record time, only having to stop once to pick up another passenger on the elevator. As Justin drove, Brian checked his leather jacket for his passport and the folder with most of their travelers' cheques in it. Both items were there.

As they pulled up to the Big Q, Justin climbed into the back. Michael got in and they were off.

Giving Brian and Justin unnecessary (since Cynthia and Justin both had done in-depth research on the topic) advice about places to eat, things to do in Paris, Michael negotiated the highway and traffic to ferry the two lovers safely to the airport.

As Justin got their bags out of the back, Brian told Michael, "Hang up my suit would you?"

"All right. I'll hang it up."

"And don’t leave my briefcase out in the Jeep."

"I won't." He gave them each a hug. "Have a safe trip."

"We will," replied Justin.

"And have a blast."

"That too," promised the teen.

Hugging Brian, Michael told him, "Remember what I said."

Brian pecked him on the lips. "I will. Later."

"And email me, would you?"

Watching Michael pull away, Brian and Justin grabbed their stuff and joined the people at the security checkpoint. It was moving relatively quickly and within ten minutes they were at the head of the line. Providing their driver's licenses and tickets, they passed through the doorway and into the terminal itself. Justin spotted the sign directing them to their gate. They were taking an American Eagle flight to JFK and then transferring to an American Airlines 777 Boeing jet for Heathrow.

Arriving at their gate, they checked in, then took a seat to wait for their flight to start boarding.

Although the flight from New York to London had service for dinner, a snack, and breakfast, more than likely they'd be asleep, after all the plane didn't leave JFK until eleven thirty. And Brian hated eating meals after ten. So Justin had stopped and picked up a couple of sandwiches at the diner. Besides, it had given him a last chance to say goodbye to Deb. "Hungry?" he asked Brian.

"Starving." The sandwich he'd eaten at lunch had long gone.

So, waiting for their flight, they shared a simple dinner of kettle chips, turkey club sandwiches, and orange soda. "Can you imagine all the great food we're going to have on the trip?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. I'll be in the gym every morning trying to work it off."

Justin pinched Brian's waist through his sweater. He could barely catch hold of him, he was so slender. "You need fattening up. You're too skinny."

Looking down at himself, Brian said, "I've been the same weight for the past six years and it hasn't hurt me yet."

"You could stand to gain a pound or two."

"Enough of the gaining weight talk," Brian demanded, "and let me eat my food in peace. No wonder I'm skinny. You worry me to death." And even though he'd meant it as a joke, it fell a little flat. He could feel Justin tensing up next to him. "Baby—I didn't mean anything by it."

Subdued, Justin replied, "I know." He put his sandwich aside, what was left of it but Brian picked it up and put it back in his hands.

"We're not gonna do this. We're not going to spend our entire trip apologizing for the past. It's in the past. So we let it go and move the fuck on. Now, eat." He leaned in close. "We want to keep your ass nice and plump."

Smiling through the sniffles, Justin said, "Yes, sir," and continued eating. 

 

Before they knew it, the gate attendants were boarding First Class. Picking up their stuff, they proceeded to the podium and produced their tickets and passes.

Settled in, they waited for the rest of the passengers to board and as the people in Coach tramped by, Brian frowned and Justin was doubly glad they weren't back there or he was sure there'd have been trouble.

Teasing Brian, he said, "You are such a snob."

"Elitist."

Although the flight was only an hour and twenty minutes, the cabin crew came around with the beverage cart. Justin declined to have anything but Brian ordered a bourbon on the rocks which the teen sipped from as well.

"Thought you didn't want anything?"

"Can't we share?"

Brian cocked an eyebrow. "So what are you going to share with me?"

Justin kissed him sweetly. "There. That good enough?"

"Perfect," answered Brian as he stole another.

The rest of the flight was uneventful and soon the 'Fasten your seatbelts' sign came on again and they descended into New York City.

It seemed strange to look at the New York skyline without seeing the twin towers of the Trade Center and yet it seemed as if the city still stood beneath their shadows.

"We should come up here one weekend," Justin suggested and then he remembered that Brian and Cam had done New York and maybe Brian didn't want to retrace their steps with his new lover.

"We already have," Brian reminded him.

Justin blushed although he was happy Brian didn't seem saddened by the suggestion. He still couldn't believe what a drama princess he'd been stealing Brian' credit card and running away to New York. "That wasn't really a sightseeing tour."

"Maybe we can come up for New Year's." The flight attendant opened the cabin door. Brian pushed all thoughts of Cam from his mind. At least he'd kept his features blank so that Justin wouldn’t worry.

"For our anniversary," Justin said as they walked through the tunnel leading to the terminal.

"We've got too many anniversaries," Brian complained. He pointed down the corridor to the right. That was the way to the gate for their connecting flight.

"One for when we first met," Gus' birthday, "and one for our commitment day."

"And what if we had an actual ceremony that wasn't on New Year's? That'd be three."

Justin found two seats in the corner of the waiting room where they'd be relatively out of the main traffic path. "Well, we don't have to worry about that cause we're not having a ceremony."

Even though he knew he was opening a can of worms by doing so, Brian asked, "You sure you don’t want one?"

"What? A ceremony? Yeah right," he laughed. "And next you'll tell me I've won a Guggenheim Fellowship."

"If you could, would you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe." It'd be ridiculously romantic, him and Brian exchanging vows. Dream on. "But it doesn’t matter because we are committed. With or without the ceremony."

With a wait that was longer than their first flight, the two men settled down to their separate pursuits: Justin playing his Game Boy and Brian going through his CD of Paris that Justin had given him for his birthday. His camera was going to get a good workout on this trip. Losing himself in the streets of Montmartre, he didn't hear the boarding announcement. Justin nudged him. "They're about to start." So he shut down his computer and got out his ticket again.

By the time the plane took off, Brian and Justin were getting more than a little drowsy. It'd been a long day for both of them. Checking with one of the attendants regarding dinner, they opted out and snagged a couple of pillows instead. Brian took the window seat and leaned up against the side of the cabin while Justin snuggled up to his back and side, one arm around his waist.

Looking at them, the First Class attendant thought she'd never seen anything cuter, the way Justin curled into Brian's body and the way Brian pillowed Justin's body. Too bad they were gay though. Could have had a good time with either of them. The older one was hot as hell. And the younger one was as cute as he could be, like an angel almost. Oh well… 

 

Despite thinking they wouldn't be able to sleep all night cramped in their seats, they did, and woke to find themselves an hour outside of London. Changing seats once more, they did accept some breakfast when the attendant came around and wolfed down a bagel and a bowl of cereal each as well as several cups of coffee. After making an obligatory trip to the little boys' room. By the time they'd finished eating, the plane had reached London. Eyes bright with excitement, Justin gazed out of the window as if he couldn't believe it. There. The whole city spread before him like a feast. He couldn't believe it. Not really. And said so.

So Brian pinched him. When he yelped, the man explained, "At least now you know you're not asleep."

"I knew that before," he replied, rubbing the spot although Brian hadn't pinched him hard.

Gathering their bags, they waited to disembark the plane. Not for the first time was Brian glad he'd listened to Justin about not bringing suitcases. After a quick stop (he hoped) at Passport Control and the Customs Hall, they were hopping the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station where they'd grab a cab to their hotel which was just a short ride away. Their hotel, the Montague on the Garden, offered shuttle service to and from the hotel but it was actually quicker and cheaper to use the Express. Besides, Justin was all hyped up about riding the train. Kids. 

 

Customs had taken longer than they'd expected, the agents going through their bags with a thoroughness that dismayed Justin after he'd gone to all the trouble to carefully pack their bags. And there'd been a sticky moment when they'd asked Brian to unravel the package in his organizer and he'd done so to reveal the vibrator in all of its glory along with a string of anal beads. Justin didn't know who was more embarrassed: him, or the agent, or the people around them. Brian, however, didn't seem to mind a bit.

At last they cleared Customs and found the train. But it went so quickly, Justin felt like they'd hardly boarded it before they were at Paddington Station and looking for a taxi. Which was probably a good thing as he was getting tired of lugging around his bags and wanted to stretch out on a bed for at least ten minutes before they started day one of their London adventure. Still, he was glued to the window of the cab taking in the sights as they drove to the Montague.

Where they found out that they were a half hour early and couldn't check in until two. Leaving their stuff with the concierge, they decided to visit the American Express Travel office and exchange some of their travelers cheques for pounds. Not a lot, just enough to pay for incidentals. They'd gotten a package deal with the hotel that came with tickets to the local museums and Brian intended to pay by credit card for most of their expensive meals, using cash only for lunch, and getting around when they took taxis or the bus instead of the tube, and cheap gifts.

It was mostly cloudy but even an overcast sky couldn't dampen Justin's sprits. He was in London! Stepping out of the hotel onto Montague Street, he stared at the British Museum. They weren't going to visit it until Tuesday, their last day in the city, but he felt excited just looking at the building. They walked around it to Great Russell Street where the main entrance was.

I should have brought the camera," said Brian.

"It's packed away."

He looked down the street. "There's the office."

Fifteen minutes later they had about two hundred pounds divided between them and set off for the hotel again to check-in.

If any of the hotel staff were surprised or shocked to see the two of them together, they didn't show it. From the doorman to the front desk clerks, everyone maintained an air of professionalism and behaved with the utmost courtesy. Maybe, Brian thought, the world is changing.

As they followed the bellboy to their room, Justin gazed around him. It was a beautiful hotel, filled with flowers; they seemed to be everywhere. Which was probably going to drive his allergies crazy but it was a price he'd have to pay to stay in such a fabulous hotel. He couldn't wait until the bellboy left to show Brian his appreciation for finding the place.

The room was decorated quite nicely in tasteful, pale yellow floral patterns that echoed the hotel's décor. Although it wasn't as large as their room in the Bahamas, it would more than do. Especially since there was a tub in the bathroom big enough for two.

Maybe it was the way they both looked longingly at the king-sized bed or maybe it was the way they politely ignored his spiel but the bellboy cut his tour of the rooms short and wished them a pleasant stay. Brian tipped him and showed him the door, nearly running to join Justin on the bed. The teen had already claimed possession of it, taking up an impossible amount of space. Still, there was room enough for Brian, especially if he curled up around him.

Justin turned in his arms and nestled into Brian's chest. Nuzzled his throat. "Do we have to go out?"

"You're the one with the agenda, not me."

It was true. Justin had planned all of their activities and if they wanted to eat lunch and get to Madam Tussaud's before it closed, they had to get a move on. Rolling off the bed, he held out his hand. Pulled Brian up. They kissed then unpacked their clothes and hung them and the organizers in the closet. Ducked into the bathroom to brush their teeth, grabbed Brian's camera, Justin's backpack with their umbrellas inside, and were out of there.

Brian having seen a review of a nearby restaurant in the New York Times, they headed for 8 Hanway Place and Hakkasan. Making their way down a dark alley, they would have wondered if they'd gotten the wrong address except that the article had warned them to expect that. Descending a dark staircase, they went inside where they were greeted by the hostess who led them through the bar area past cobalt-blue neon-lit, translucent panels to a table in the corner of the main dining room. Taking note of the number of people in there, they figured they were lucky to have been seated without a reservation.

"They're supposed to serve some of the best dim sum in the city," Brian told Justin. "And the interior was done by Christian Liaigre. Karl Largerfield and Calvin Klein swear by him." He looked around approvingly at the blue walls and the dark wood-carved panels; and was taken by the Chinese slate on the floor, the pale blue leather seats, and cool lighting. "I could see something like this in the loft."

"Maybe you could hire him," Justin said innocently.

Brian laughed out loud. "How much money do you think I make?"

Studying the prices on the menu, Justin asked, "Is it okay? I mean, can you afford this?"

"The prices aren't that bad. We won't have to do the dishes this time," he joked.

"No." Justin laid down his menu. "I mean this trip. It's pretty expensive. I…"

"Don't worry, baby. That's what bonuses are for." He smiled widely. "Harris is paying for everything."

"Yeah, but you had to do the work first."

"It's my job. It's not like I worked any harder than I usually do," Brian explained.

"You work too hard," scolded Justin.

"If you wanna make partner before your hair starts to fall out, you have to." Discussion over in his opinion, Brian studied the menu.

"Brian?"

He looked up. He should have known it wasn't over. Not with Justin.

"Maybe I should have gotten a real job this summer."

"And how would you have explained needing to take a month off?"

"We could have taken a shorter trip."

He shrugged. "No point."

"I don't want to feel like… like a freeloader."

"I'll take it out in trade," he grinned.

"Brian—"

"Don't worry about the money." He raised an eyebrow. "Now, can I please look at the menu without any further interruptions?"

Justin nodded, not entirely pleased by Brian's answers but knowing that it was pointless to continue badgering him when he'd made it clear he didn't want to talk about something, he put it out of his mind for the moment and concentrated on the menu as well.

Appetites whet by the plates of dim sum on other people's tables they, nevertheless, restrained themselves and ordered a modest amount of food: chive dumplings, rice pastry strips, crab and ginger fishcakes, char sui buns, and fried mango spring rolls with prawns and scallops. Delicate, delicious, and just the thing to take the edge off their hunger without filling them up.

In and out in an hour, they headed for Madame Tussaud's by way of Gower Street, past the University of London. Although they didn't have time just then, they promised themselves a more thorough tour later in their trip. Still, Justin was thrilled as they passed the ornate buildings and immaculate greens.

"IFA doesn’t look anything like this," he said enviously.

"Yeah, but they don't have anything like you," Brian told him and the teen smiled and all was right with the world. For the moment.

It didn't take long to walk to the Euston Square station and hop the first train they saw heading towards Baker Street. From there it was a short walk down the block to the museum. There was a line for tickets but they'd gotten theirs as a part of the hotel package so there was no wait except to get into the exhibits themselves.

Meandering through the different areas they mingled with both common and uncommon folk, finding themselves standing next to Samuel L. Jackson, Arnold Schwarzenneger, Napoleon, Elvis, Eddie Murphy, Bill Clinton, and Vlad the Impaler (better known as Dracula). Although all of the figures were impressive—("They have to insert each hair individually," Justin said. "Bet they loved Michael Jordan," Brian replied.)-- both of them agreed that some were better than others. For example, the Jerry Hall resembled her a lot more than the Mohammad Ali did his namesake.

"Says something about her, don’t you think?" Brian asked.

"I liked her in Batman. 'You look fine,' " he purred.

And Brian supplied the Joker's line, drawling, " 'I didn't ask.' "

Like two kids, they enjoyed the Chamber of Horrors best, shivering with delight at the Jack the Ripper exhibition, complete with swirling fog, coming upon his hapless victims in dark alleys, much as he had, except that he'd been there first and done his bloody work.

Still, in time, the crowds began to annoy Brian and Justin figured he'd better get him out of there before some little kid got a kick in the ass. Having a child of his own had definitely not mellowed him towards anyone else's. So they skipped the tour of the planetarium and decided to go back to the hotel and rest a bit before dinner. 

 

The room was as welcoming as an old friend to two such weary travelers. Kicking off their shoes and stripping, the lovers crawled under the covers for a brief forty minute nap. Brian set the alarm and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew Justin was reaching over him to shut it off.

"Shit. I feel like I just went to sleep," he complained.

"Come on, old man," said Justin, "we gotta shower and get ready and you know how long it takes you to get ready."

Brian managed to pop Justin on the butt as he followed the teen to the bathroom.

Justin covered his cheeks with his hands. "Ow."

"Smart ass."

Justin groaned at the horrible pun. "Ha, ha."

The hot water felt heavenly after the long flight and their afternoon of sightseeing. Justin, ever on the lookout for opportunities to touch his man, washed Brian's back and hair. They'd both discovered this to be an enormous turn-on, irregardless of who was doing the washing and who was being serviced. As expected, the teen's hands wandered down Brian's torso and over his belly on its way to his groin but he man caught the boy's hand and held it.

"Uh-uh. Later."

Amazed and a little annoyed than Brian wasn't up for even a little fooling around, Justin rescinded his offer and went back to innocently soaping himself. Let Brian wash himself, he thought. And then Brian gave him a little peck below his ear the way he did when he was feeling affectionate.

"Later," he promised and Justin half-turned and they kissed.

"'kay."

Pied a Terre was within walking distance but they took a cab. After all, one didn't arrive at a Michelin star restaurant like Pied a Terre on foot despite its name.

Justin was glad he'd brought a couple of nice sweaters and some dress slacks along when he saw the rest of the clientele. Brian, of course, looked like he belonged there.

Keeping it light, they opted for a two-course meal—entrée and dessert—instead of three. Still, the food was magnificent: roasted sea bass with braised fennel and parmesan and fennel gnocchi, and roasted lamb with cumin scented eggplant puree and red pepper sauce. Once or twice during dinner they each caught the other with his eyes closed, savoring the mouthwatering food with something akin to rapture. And dessert was just as impressive: frommage blanc mousse with strawberry consommé and strawberry and frommage blanc sorbet for Brian and roasted baby bananas with praline sauce and butterscotch ice cream for Justin. Of course, they sampled one another's desserts as they had the main courses and agreed that the meal was money well-spent considering that they were going to pay a goodly amount for it.

As it was early yet when they left the restaurant, they did walk back to the hotel, affording them a night time look at the University as they walked up past the Goode Street station and along Gower until they reached the brightly lit museum. Sitting on the steps for a few moments, they savored the evening air.

"So," asked Brian, "you like it so far?"

"The trip or London?"

"Both."

"Yeah," he said shyly and Brian smiled. He loved it when Justin's boyish side emerged, when he could shuck all of his responsibilities and worries and just be a nineteen-year-old still finding out about the world and all that was in it. Despite his cynicism and his plethora of experiences, Brian was glad he'd decided to come along for this lifelong adventure. Even if he had done a lot of things, there was a great deal that he hadn't experienced. It was exciting and comforting to discover them with someone else. He couldn’t believe it sometimes, that he'd gotten a second chance at life while he was still young enough to enjoy it; and that he had an opportunity to see the world through Justin's eyes: full of curiosity and always willing to see the good before the bad. He put his arm around his partner's shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

"Hey."

"Hey," Justin replied.

"It's getting chilly."

Justin laughed and stood. "Let's go inside." He knew a hint when he heard one. Besides, he'd been looking at Brian all evening and wanting to get him out of those elegant clothes and into bed, into his arms.

Holding hands, they walked across the street to the hotel and fairly raced upstairs. For all of their hurrying you would have thought they'd be halfway out of their clothes by the time they reached their room. Instead, once inside, all sense of urgency dissipated. Calmly, they came together and kissed, Brian's hand at the nape of Justin's neck, brushing over the silky hairs there.

As they parted briefly, Justin asked, "How long has it been?"

"Too long," Brian answered and he lifted the teen in his arms and carried him to bed.

Uncovering him bit by bit, Brian showered his lover's body with kisses as Justin lay supine, eyes closed and lips parted. Brian grazed his throat from just below his jaw to the hollow, pausing to nuzzle his Adam's apple, eliciting a deep, "Mmm," from the teenager.

Off came the sweater and Brian continued his explorations, traveling the length of Justin's torso from his breastbone to his belly button. The boy sighed as Brian kissed his way down the center of his chest, the man's soft lips pursing around his nipples and spreading over his ribcage as if he wanted to devour his lover.

Down went the zipper on his trousers while Brian continued to kiss his way over his abdomen and around his waist. Shivering as his partner's hand slipped inside his slacks, Justin spread his thighs and raised his hips a little to press his groin against Brian's palm.

Justin's cock stirred beneath his hand and Brian squeezed him a little, just a taste of what was to come. Still, it was enough to start Justin moaning. And Justin moaning was enough to get Brian excited, even more excited than he'd been just kissing Justin's body. Removing his hand, he drew the teen's pants down around his ankles, then off completely. Justin's crotch was full, arousal already evident. Taking the opportunity to slow things down even more, Brian stood and stripped, aware of Justin's eyes on him, wanting him. God, it fucking gave him such a rush to know that Justin desired him, lusted after him, ached for him. He was aware of his own excitement mounting and wondered if he'd be able to resist just taking Justin without any further delay. Lazily, his lids drooped over his eyes and he licked his lips, cupping his cock, stroking it once or twice. His dick was growing harder and hungrier, and what it craved was Justin. Not just his plump behind or its tight little hole but his slender thighs and arms, his rosy nipples, blue eyes, and golden hair. Everything about him turned Brian on and he wanted all of him.

Leaving the bed, he fumbled through the organizer and took out the condoms and lube and one of the toys they'd brought. Hid it behind his back. "Close your eyes," he ordered as he returned to Justin's side. The teen obeyed, trusting Brian implicitly. That as well was immensely erotic, that he could do anything to Justin and the boy would not only tolerate it, he'd welcome it. He couldn't believe how well-matched they were sexually, how compatible, and that too got him all hot and bothered.

Brian tossed the condoms and lube on the bed next to Justin and knelt between his legs. The boy still had his eyes closed. Extending his arm, he stroked Justin's cock with the dildo he'd gotten out of the organizer. Justin groaned and turned his head to the side. His dick began to swell inside his briefs. "Like that?"

"Yes."

Again, this time more firmly, Brian rubbed him with the toy and watched his lover's neck and chest begin to redden as he got more and more aroused. Justin tried to stay still but the feel of the toy on his body was too much and he drew his knees up and gripped the bedspread beneath him, trying to ground himself. He could feel his cock throb and knew that soon he'd be dripping precum. God, he wanted that dildo in him. He could already feel it vibrating.

As if he'd read Justin's mind, Brian thumbed the dildo on and it began to vibrate against the teenager's dick, sending pulses through his body. His briefs were tented in front and he shuddered each time the vibrating toy rolled over his cockhead or his balls.

Upping the tension a little, Brian switched attention from Justin's crotch to his buttocks, specifically to his perineum and anus. Moving the dildo down between his thighs, he was rewarded with a loud groan and a convulsion on Justin's part. Brian moved so that he was directly over Justin, so that he could hear every moan, every breath, and he wasn’t disappointed. As he continued to tease the teen with the toy, Justin continued to jerk beneath him, a sheen of sweat glistening on his face and body, uttering cries that carried throughout the room. Cries that sent shivers up Brian's spine.

Pausing again, Brian encased the dildo in a condom and wet it with lube from tip to base. "Take 'em off," he told Justin and the teen removed his briefs, the front of them stained with precum. His cock bounced free and lay hard against his stomach. Without being told, he lifted his knees and held them to his chest, spread open, exposing his vulnerability.

Propped on one arm, Brian lay next to Justin and ran the dildo down his lover's body, from the hollow of his throat, between his pecs, along his sweet line, and over his cock. He paused just behind his balls and increased the level of vibration.

Justin gasped and squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck!" He was dizzy from need. And then the tip brushed over his hole and he shouted. Felt the muscles in his ass clench and release. "Do it," he begged. All he wanted was to feel his hole open around the hard, latex head.

But Brian teased him some more, rotating the vibrating tip against his hole, with just enough force to drive Justin crazy but not enough to penetrate him.

Justin grunted and willed his ass to open up and swallow the dildo whole. "Please…" His belly was wet with precum and all he wanted, all he wanted—"Yes! Oh! Oh…" he moaned as the dildo entered him. The solid tube of latex slipped through the tight ring of muscle with little resistance and inched towards his prostate.

Leaning over, Brian kissed him hard as he brought the dildo to bear on the nut-sized organ deep inside his lover. Justin shouted into his mouth and came. Brian held the toy in place as Justin shuddered and his cock continued to spit.

As his body emptied itself, Justin pressed against Brian, taking comfort from his strength, from his closeness.

The dildo sliding free, Brian removed the condom and tossed it in the wastepaper basket. Set the toy aside. Slipped on a condom and lubed himself. Wanting to take it slow, to build Justin's arousal again, Brian rolled his lover onto his side and entered him from behind. The room tilted and Brian held his breath. He hadn't realized how close he was. Holding still, he waited until the sensation passed, then continued to push forward.

Justin smiled. As good as the dildo had felt, this felt a thousand times better: his lover's cock slowly filling him. He could feel his insides expand to accommodate Brian and it amazed him, as always, that he had this ability to be filled to capacity and then some, as if there was no limit to what he could do.

One arm beneath their heads, the other holding Justin's leg up to keep him open, Brian and Justin made love leisurely. Whenever he felt himself getting too close to coming, Brian paused and waited it out until, at last, Justin began to grind his hips backwards, hard again, wanting Brian to fuck him harder. Still in him to the hilt, Brian eased Justin over onto his belly and supported himself on his arms, increasing the force of his thrusts.

Mouth open and saliva dripping on the pillow below him, Justin moaned as Brian pounded his ass until he felt that he would split open from the force. But he didn't. Because there was nothing Brian could do to him that he couldn't take.

Slamming into him a couple times more, Brian clenched his teeth and grunted. Fuck, that felt good. That had been building for two days now and it was a relief to be able to release it. "Ahh…" he breathed and collapsed onto Justin's back. He knew the teen hadn't gotten off yet but he needed a moment before he could move again, before he could think again. When he'd recovered, he pulled out and turned Justin over onto his back. Caught one leg in his hand and parted Justin's thighs as he lowered his head. There was little he loved better after coming than to suck Justin off, the boy's thick cock throbbing in his mouth, slit gaping open. He licked it clean of the precum that was there and swallowed knowing there'd be more. Face sticky, he slid his lips over the engorged head and down the shaft and heard Justin moan as his mouth came to rest around the base. Justin's pubes tickled his nose a little but he was enjoying the taste, the feel of the teen's cock too much to care. His head bobbed over Justin's groin as he went down on him, thirsty for the taste of his cum.

Justin's buttocks tightened and he gave a cry. "Oh…" he groaned. "Fuck…" and he came in Brian's mouth, the man coaxing every drop from his dick.

Holding a mouthful of cum, Brian opened his lips and let the cloudy liquid flow back over Justin's cock, then lapped it up again. Delirious, Justin closed his eyes to the sight, it was too hot, too much to comprehend. All he wanted to do was to feel.

Having cleaned up a little, they crawled into bed and moved together, arms and legs entwined about one another like incestuous vines.

It was their first night in London. 

 

Brian had gone to work out so he lay staring at the ceiling, the early morning light the only illumination needed. He could hear the birds out in the garden below. He'd tried to get Brian to stay in bed with him but the man had insisted on hitting the gym saying he had no intention of turning into a fat, old queen on their vacation and nothing Justin said could convince him otherwise. So he'd gone at the crack of dawn to sweat for an hour. Justin was glad he didn't need to work out. Not yet anyway and he hoped his freakish metabolism held up at least through his twenties. Although it wouldn’t be too bad working out with Brian. On the other hand, he's serious about it and he wouldn't let me slide, not once, Justin thought. He glanced at the clock. Brian would be back in a bit, sweaty from his work-out, hair lank and hanging in his eyes, lips parted from breathing hard, muscles pumped… A smile leapt upon his lips. He couldn't wait until Brian returned. Breakfast might be delayed.

Just thinking about Brian made him feel tingly all over. Closing his eyes, he ran his hands over his chest and stomach, imagining they were Brian's hands. Sometimes he wondered how Brian felt when he was touching his young lover, what he was thinking. To tell the truth he wondered about that a lot, especially since their fiasco with Xavier and everything that had come after. At first he wondered how Brian could stand to touch him and he figured it was the same with Brian as it was with himself: he couldn't help it, he had to be with him, had to make love to him, there was no other choice. Although he'd enjoyed being with Xavier, nothing compared to what he felt when he and Brian made love. He wrapped his hand around his cock and tugged on it, imagining Brian doing it instead. "Brian," he whispered, wishing the man would hear him and come back. He heard a sound. Opened his eyes. Brian was standing at the foot of the bed.

"Start without me?" he asked, pulling off his tank top and crawling into bed.

As Justin had imagined he was sweaty and his muscles were hard as stone.

Breakfast could definitely wait. 

 

After a quick meal in one of the hotel's conservatories—glass-roofed and filled with plants and flowers—the two lovers walked to the Russell Square station and took the Picadilly line to Green Park where they transferred to the Victoria Line and rode to Pimlico. Justin could hardly contain himself as they strolled to the museum and Brian silently fortified himself for many hours of trying to keep up with the teen. Still, he more than enjoyed watching Justin walk slightly in front of him, wearing a pair of khaki shorts that left nothing to the imagination, especially his gorgeous behind which was definitely worth the aggravation.

Entering the museum by the entrance off of Atterbury Street, they paused to donate a couple of pounds since admission to the Tate's permanent collection was free. Although they'd paid to see the Freud pieces, Justin felt better after having deposited his donation. That done, they headed immediately to the nine rooms set aside for the Freud exhibition. Even though the museum had only been open for a few minutes, there were already a number of people milling about. Ignoring them completely, Brian and Justin gave the attendant their tickets, received their audio guides and programs, and entered the first of the rooms.

It was a dream come true, standing before paintings he'd only ever seen in books, in the book Brian had bought him for his birthday. To see "Girl with a Dog" and "Reflections with Two Children" up close, to wander through room after room, a surprise, a find around ever corner, was more intense than Justin had ever imagined. Forgoing the audio commentary, Justin stood in front of Freud's portrait of Francis Bacon, losing himself in the deceptively simple lines that managed to capture the essence of the man quite clearly despite being only a drawing, a study for a portrait that had been stolen while on loan from the Tate to a gallery in Berlin.

"He looks like him," Brian said from behind him.

"Who?"

"That actor. The one in the movie we saw."

Justin studied the face. "Yeah, he does." They'd rented a film about Francis Bacon with Sir Derek Jacobi playing the part of the infamous painter. Justin remembered Jacobi standing in the movie just as Bacon had in the drawing.

"I really like him," said Brian.

"Frances Bacon?"

"No. That actor. He was in Henry V wasn't he? The narrator?"

"Uh-huh. The Chorus." Although it shouldn't have, it constantly amazed Justin how aware Brian actually was of things and people around him. Even though he hardly talked about the movies or actors, he did take notice of them and remembered the ones he liked and he had favorite films, favorite books, it was just that no one had ever asked him about them, certainly not any of the tricks he'd done. That, more than anything, thrilled Justin, that he knew things about Brian that no one else did, little things that came from being close to him, from being with him day in and day out, from talking to him when they were lying in bed or having breakfast. The tiny moments that got overlooked by most people most of the time. And, yet, it was of those moments that a life was made. The forgettable moments that held the rest together, that led from crisis to celebration.

As they continued through the rooms, Brian tapped Justin on the arm with his program. "You haven't drawn any pictures of me lately."

Lying, Justin said, "I thought you hated posing for them." Truthfully, he'd been afraid of what he'd see if he sat down to draw his lover.

"You used to do them while I was asleep."

"I guess now I'm asleep too."

Softly, Brian agreed. "Yeah. Guess so."

For a while they were both silent as they roamed the exhibit. Noticing the number of naked portraits, Brian asked, "Are all artists perverts?"

Justin grinned. "No. Freud said that he liked painting people naked because it got them to shed their disguises, to get rid of the face they put on for the world, to reveal their basic animal instincts and desires."

Glancing sideways at the teen, Brian asked, "Is that why you like drawing me naked?"

He shrugged. "I guess." Added, "When you're naked there's nothing for you to hide behind, no designer labels, just you. I guess that's why I drew you when you were asleep, because I felt like you weren't hiding anything then. That I had a chance to maybe get a glimpse of you with your guard down. The real you." Then, as a postscript, he confessed, "Besides, sometimes I just like looking at you naked," and he stared at the man, caught up in his beauty.

Brian smiled, acknowledging the compliment and tried to hold Justin's gaze but he couldn't and looked away, slightly flustered.

From the Freud exhibit they walked upstairs to browse the permanent collection, in particular they were interested in the Bacon and Blake works and Turner's paintings of Venice since they were going to Venice in little over a week.

As had countless visitors before them, they were transfixed by Bacon's two triptychs: one simply entitled "Triptych-August 1972" and the other, "Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion". Of course, the pieces had special significance for them in light of Justin's "Three Views of Love" that had been the sleeper hit of the student show at PIFA. Looking at the panels, Brian felt weak and he knew that it wasn't Bacon's work that he was responding to but Justin's. Despite having survived the ordeal there wasn't a day that went by when he didn't think about how close he'd come to losing his life, to throwing everything away, including Justin's life. Wordlessly, the teen moved closer to him and took hold of his hand. He looked down at his partner and tried to smile but couldn't.

"Come on," Justin told him and they left the room in search of lighter fare.

The Turner in Venice works appeared, at first, to be exactly what they needed but, eventually, they began to sense the decay that lay beneath the seemingly light-filled paintings of the city. It was as if Turner had painted Venice simultaneously in the now and in the future, prophesizing that the city would eventually dissolve into the sea.

Giving a tiny laugh, Brian shook his head and checked Justin's watch since he never wore one unless he absolutely had to. "Lunch," he suggested and Justin agreed.

With the Blake room and others left to explore afterwards, they stayed inside the building and ate in the museum restaurant. It was definitely a step down—several steps down—from Hakkasan. Luckily, they were saving their appetites for J Sheekey that evening.

Pausing over his Caesar salad, Justin asked, "Do you think…" But he couldn't finish his question.

"What?"

He looked up again. "That it'll ever be okay between us? I mean, really okay."

The question hurt because he hadn't intended to let it show. "We are okay."

"How can we be if you… if you still hurt so much?"

"Baby—"

"I can see it in your eyes, Brian." He laid down his fork and studied his plate for a few moments before speaking again. "I would do anything—"

"You don't have to. Justin, I'm okay. We're okay. It's just that sometimes… sometimes it hurts. And Drew says I should just let it, not try and hide it. He says that's what got me into trouble in the first place."

"That was me."

"No. That was a lot of shit that had nothing to do with you." He smiled, not having to force it this time. "Art is a bitch, you know?"

And Justin laughed cause it was such a Brian thing to say, a total non sequitur and, yet, he understood exactly what Brian meant. Because they were connected. Despite everything.

Fortified for the moment, they tackled Blake after lunch and Justin could tell that the paintings were affecting Brian as much as the Bacon had. "Brian?"

"I know how that feels," he said.

"How what feels?" They were looking at the canvas, "Nebuchadnezzar," a giant on his knees, mouth open screaming words of doom transmitted in a dream, the sound of his prophesies louder inside his own head than on the outside, endlessly echoing off the walls of his soul.

"Being almost too big for your thoughts. Being lost inside yourself," he explained with a little shake of his head, knowing that he was making little sense.

And Justin told him gently, "You don't have to feel lost anymore. I'm here."

Brian slipped an arm around him. He understood. Together they were enough to fill all the hollow spaces inside. 

 

Slightly ahead of schedule, they arrived at the Westminster station a little after two o'clock. Walking below the Westminster Bridge, they came upon the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. Brian got off a number of shots of the building as they walked its grounds; most of the pictures included Justin standing in front of some architectural feature or another. From there they walked over to Westminster Abbey, took some more pictures, and found out that they had already missed the time for the last admission of the day.

"Fuck!" cursed Brian, endearing him to the people who'd come up behind them and were just as disappointed if not quite as vulgar and vocal about it. He'd really wanted to see the stained glass windows from the inside and to visit Poets' Corner. Which had surprised Justin who would have never figured him to be a lover of either stained glass or English poetry. However, he did like Michelangelo and, as Justin had found out, he had a soft spot in his heart for the Romantic poets.

"Oh well," Justin said. "Maybe we can come back some other time." His face lit up. "Since we can't go inside, let's see if we can catch one of the riverboat tours." He'd seen them from shore and was dying to go on one.

"What about Buckingham Palace?" They were supposed to have gone there after Westminster Abbey.

"We can do that another day too. Please."

Brian shrugged so they hurried down to the pier and were able to secure passage on a tour that was leaving within the half hour.

On board the boat, they stood along the railing on the top deck and watched London float by. Completely ignoring the tour guide whose voice was piped through the PA system from inside, they pointed out buildings and attractions to one another.

"There's the London Eye. I can't wait to go up," said Justin of the giant Ferris wheel towering over everything on the south bank.

"I can," replied Brian. His stomach was already doing flip-flops just thinking about it. He could do heights up to a certain point and then it just seemed like foolishness to him unless you were in an airplane. Thinking back to the night Gus was born and that stunt he'd pulled, going up to the top of the hospital and standing on the ledge, he felt a little queasy. Of course, he'd been operating on pure adrenaline. And Mikey had been there. Still, they could have both fallen to their deaths and that would have been the end of that story.

Brian's camera was busy recording the sights as they passed while Justin marked places on their map that they hoped to eventually get to before leaving Wednesday morning. He didn't say anything but Brian thought it would be nearly impossible to get all of it done. Still, if anyone could do it, it'd be Justin.

Getting off the boat at the pier, they joined the crowd of people walking up to the Tower of London. It was on their list of things to do although they'd figured they'd go on Monday. Maybe they'd do Westminster and Buckingham Palace that day instead.

They followed one of the red and blue clad yeoman warders, or Beefeaters as they were called, on a tour of the Tower complex, taking in the Castle and the Crown exhibit along the way where the crown jewels were on display as part of the Queen's Jubilee celebrating fifty years of rule.

"Do you think Prince Charles is ever going to be king?" Justin asked.

"Not if he marries that Camilla woman. Besides, he'll be so old by the time Elizabeth dies why would he care anymore?"

"I hope Prince William becomes king. He's a hottie."

Brian glanced over at his partner. "Really?"

"Not that I was looking."

"Keep your eyes on the jewels. And I don't mean his," teased Brian and Justin smiled and pushed him forward on the tour.

As they crossed the Tower green, Justin pointed to the scaffold area. "Can you imagine how it must feel to get your head chopped off with an axe?"

"Kind of like getting an ass chewing from Deb." Something he knew way too much about.

As did Justin who agreed. "True."

On the boat ride back, it had gotten a little chilly and Brian wrapped his arms around Justin and held him garnering looks from some of the other passengers. Fuck em, he told himself, glaring from beneath half-lidded eyes. Most of the people who had been staring surreptitiously at them looked away.

By the time they returned to the hotel, it was after six and all they wanted to do was to crash. Brian fell back onto the bed with a grunt. He was soon joined by Justin with a grunt of his own. "I'm beat," the teenager said.

"And we've only got an hour and," he checked the clock with a lift of his head, "fifteen minutes until our reservations."

"Think we could be a little late?"

Brian raised up and looked at Justin incredulously. "Are you crazy? We were lucky to get reservations at all. There's going to be a long line of desperate people waiting outside just hoping we don't show up."

"I guess that means no."

"Unless you want to sample the fish and chips down at the local pub."

"Hey—"

"Don't even think about it," warned Brian as he sat up in bed. "So come on. Shower time." Justin grinned. "And none of that, young man."

Justin pouted and followed him into the bathroom. "You think we'll see Tom Cruise at J Sheekey?" He and other celebs were rumored to eat there when they were in town.

"Maybe Heaven," the gay club they were going to after dinner.

"You really think he's gay?" Justin turned on the water and shook his head as he was doused.

"Not like I care," he said, soaping the teenager's back. "I don't want to fuck him."

"No?"

"I don't do old. He's like, what? Forty?"

Justin laughed because if anyone else had said that, he would have accused them of sour grapes; Brian actually meant it. "Then I guess I've got nothing to worry about."

"Nope," Brian replied. "You're half his age and twice as cute."

Kissing him, Justin whispered, "Later?"

And Brian assured him that there'd be plenty of time once they got back. "Count on it." 

 

They made their reservation with ten minutes to spare although Justin guessed from the way the maitre d' was looking at Brian that even if they'd been late, he would have bumped someone else just to let them in. Brian did look particularly scrumptious tonight, testament to the fact that they were going clubbing later. A holdover from his cruising days, Justin supposed, that he always looked as if he were on the make even when he wasn't. In any case, he could definitely hold his own against any of the supposed stars that frequented the place. In his slutty burnt sienna sweater that continued to succumb to gravity and slide off his broad shoulders and a pair of black flat-front slacks, he caught the eyes of nearly every woman (and quite a few of the men) in the place. Moving closer to him, Justin made it clear that they were together and he was pleased to note a few of those people giving him the eye. Not out of hostility but out of interest. He did look good. Even Brian had said so. Of course, Brian had picked out and paid for the outfit, a thin, cream-colored sweater and olive slacks, saying it made Justin look particularly delicious. And Justin had made a comment that he tasted particularly good with whipped cream. He was hoping Brian had taken the hint.

The food was marvelous, fresh fish prepared with a light hand, but they were disappointed in their celebrity watching. Brian didn't really care except that he was secretly hoping he'd catch a glimpse of Phillippe Starck. Anyone who would turn an ordinary juicer into a work of art was definitely on his list of people to watch.

"Have you ever met anyone famous?" Justin asked.

"I don't think so." Who the fuck knew if he had somewhere, especially if he had been under the influence of… whatever.

"Who would you liked to meet? Other than Phillippe Starck?"

"Giorgio Armani."

Justin grinned. "You think he'd get you to model his clothes?"

"Who better?" Smiled. "What about you?" As if he didn't know.

"Lucian Freud."

Cocking his head, Brian said, "Now how did I know you were going to say that? Who else?"

"David Byrne."

"The guy from Talking Heads?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Cause his music is cool and he's an artist too."

Dinner finished, they sauntered over to the Manto Bar for a couple of drinks before going dancing. They found a table near the back and pretended not to notice the interest directed their way.

"They say the Manto in Manchester is better. They mentioned it on that Queer as Folk show," Justin said.

"What Queer as Folk show?" He didn't really keep up with television but he thought he would have seen something about a show called Queer as Folk.

"It's British."

That explained why he'd never heard of it.

"About this group of gay friends. Can you believe it? They had a twenty-nine-year-old guy with this fifteen-year-old kid."

Brian raised a brow. "Fifteen? Jesus. I could barely put up with a seventeen-year-old. But fifteen? No fuckin way."

Justin wadded up his cocktail napkin and threw it at Brian. "Liar. You would have put up with me even if I was fourteen."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Cause I'm the best lay you ever had," Justin boasted.

Brian's tongue peeked out from between his lips. There was nothing to say. Cause it was true.

They both commented that other than the accents and the distinctly British look of the guys, being in Manto was a lot like being in Woody's: guys cruising, guys making out, guys drinking. In particular, they noticed one guy who was cruising them pretty heavily. He hadn't gotten up the courage to approach them but it'd only be a matter of time as he was looking at them the way a kid eyed candy. He wasn't bad looking, kinda hot actually, but they'd had their fill of threesomes for a long, long time. Finally the guy decided to go for it. Brian and Justin pretended not to see him approach their table.

"Hello," he said. "How's it going?"

Brian, brazen as ever, looked the guy up and down and smiled and Justin could see the guy practically melt right next to him. "Pretty good."

"Americans then."

"That's right." He reached for his beer, making sure the guy got a good look at his ring.

Justin saw the man glance at his hand as well.

"How long?"

"Long enough," Brian replied.

"You're gorgeous, you know. Both of you."

"We know," said Brian. "But we're kind of on our honeymoon."

The guy held up his hands. " 'Nough said. Have a good one."

"Thanks," said Justin, the only words he'd spoken during the entire exchange. He waited until the man was out of earshot and giggled. "You're shameless."

"What?"

"You were flirting with that guy."

"So? I told him no." Brian finished his beer. "Let's go dancing."

They'd printed out a voucher for Heaven from the web to get a reduced cover charge for Brian, more for the novelty of it than from any burning desire to save a couple of pounds. Justin got in free with his ID since he was under twenty-one, something he didn't harp on for once.

He did point out the DJ up on stage. "That's him. Wayne G."

Brian made him out amid the darkness and swirling lights. "He's a hottie."

Justin tugged on his arm. "Dance with me."

The singer belted out a familiar song. "Ya'll wanna go dive in the pool?/ I know ya'll wanna go dive in the pool!/ Come on! Come on! Let's go!" 1

"Let's get soakin' wet!" Brian and Justin yelled with her and they danced around, surprised when they didn't see Mikey, Emmett, and Ted next to them.

As usual, Brian was content to let Justin bounce around while he held on as best he could.

"Come on! Are you ready! Are you ready? Come on! I wanna hear it!/ Let's get soakin' wet!"

Two songs later they returned to the bar and ordered a double Beam to share while taking a breather. The DJ played one of the songs off the new Paul Oakenfold album, the one with Perry Farrell singing lead, "Time of Your Life".

"Did you ever listen to Jane's Addiction?" Justin asked Brian and hoped the man hadn't grown tired of his questions. Brian sometimes did.

"Not really. I did like that Porno for Pyros' song though. "Pets". That was pretty cool."

Returning to the floor, they danced to a Jimmy Somerville song, "Here I Am", his falsetto voice raising goosebumps on their skin.

"I'm in front of you can you see me?/ Screaming can you hear me,/ Screaming can you hear me?/ Here I am/ Here I am…" 2

As with Manto and Woody's, Heaven pretty much reminded them of Babylon. "I wonder why they say it's the most famous gay club in the world?"

"Good publicity. And it's not like anyone can dispute it," replied Brian. "I gotta hit the head. Coming?"

"I'm good."

With a kiss, Brian said, "You better be," and went to find the bathroom.

Justin saw the two guys before they got right up on him but he didn't pay them any attention, too busy watching the couples kick it up on the dance floor.

"Haven't seen you around here before," one of them said.

Justin turned. Realized they were talking to him. "No."

The other one smiled. "American."

"Yeah." At the risk of being rude, he decided to move on but one of them blocked his way.

"Running off so soon? Stay. Talk for a while."

Deciding it was better to cut this short, Justin held up his ring. "I'm taken."

"We only want you for an hour or so and then he can have you back," the first one, the dark one, said and both of the men laughed.

"No thanks." Again he tried to move away and again they prevented him from leaving.

"We're just trying to be hospitable, mate."

"I'm not your mate and I don’t want your hospitality." This time he pushed at the blond guy in front of him but the man stood his ground and Justin began to be afraid. How the fuck had he gotten so far into the corner?

"Now," the dark-haired one said, "we are going to play nice, aren't we?"

"No," said a voice from behind them, "what you're going to do is to get the fuck away from him before I kick your asses across the Thames."

Justin looked around with a mixture of relief and shame. He'd wanted to do this on his own, take care of it himself.

"And who are you, mate?" asked the blond.

Brian held up his ring. "I'm his mate. Now, fuck off."

Although the two men looked to be a match for Brian physically, what they saw in his eyes must have convinced them that it wasn't worth taking him on and they backed off. "Fuckin' tosser," one of them grumbled as they melted back into the crowd.

"You all right?"

Angry, Justin said, "I could have taken care of it myself."

"I know. But if you think I'm going to stand by while some asshole tries to fuck with you, you're wrong."

"I don’t need you to protect me."

"That's my job."

"I don't belong to you. I’m not your property, not your fucking toy," he said tightly. God, he didn't know why but it had really pissed him off.

But instead of getting angry too, Brian just replied calmly, "Yeah. You are. You're mine. From top to bottom. My little boy." Justin looked up. "My Sunshine. My Pooh. My sticky sweet honey bear." Justin was glad it was dark so that no one could see him blushing. Brian leaned close and whispered, "My moaning, groaning, cream-filled twinkie." Kissed him. "My sweet-assed boy toy." Pecked him on the lips. "My big-dicked baby. All mine. And I protect what's mine. You got it?"

Pulse racing, Justin could hardly speak. "I got it."

"Good." He took hold of Justin's arm. "Now, let's get the fuck out of here." 

 

Unlike the previous night when they'd made love slowly, by the time they stepped across the threshold Brian had managed to work out of his sweater and was unzipping his pants. Stumbling over to the bed, he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers and briefs, letting them lay where they fell. Dropping to his knees, he tore open Justin's slacks and pulled them and his briefs down around his ankles.

Justin gasped as Brian pushed up his sweater and his lips closed around the head of his cock. He was already half-hard and wanting Brian to fuck him so badly that he almost pushed Brian away from his dick in order to get him to do it but it felt so good to slide in and out of his lover's mouth that he surrendered and let the man do as he wanted.

Luckily they were close to the nightstand because Brian didn't know how long it'd take before he'd succumb to the need to be inside Justin. Already he ached for the boy.

Pulling out of Brian's mouth, Justin rubbed his cock over his lover's lips, soliciting a last few moist kisses. Then he got to his knees and bent over Brian's lap.

"Fuck," whispered Brian as Justin went down on him, the teen's fingers stroking his balls as his lips sucked the head. Chest heaving, he fought the urge to come and slowed his breathing. Reached for the condoms and lube.

Justin unrolled one of the Trojans over his cock and lubed him well. Brian leaned back against the bed as Justin climbed onto his erection. Holding onto Brian's shoulders, crouched on the balls of his feet, Justin raised and lowered his ass onto his man's dick, wildly fucking himself until they were both drenched with sweat and moaning uncontrollably. Feeling himself getting closer to coming, Justin took Brian into his ass and sat on his lap, legs around his hips and arms around his neck. He laid his head against his shoulder and kissed his throat, waiting until the urge passed.

"Oh, baby," Brian breathed against his hair. One hand under his sweater, holding onto Justin's slippery back, Brian lowered them to the floor without breaking their intimate contact. Taking an ankle in either hand, he held Justin wide open as he fucked him.

He slowed his thrusts. "Are you mine?" he asked harshly, unable to control his breathing.

"Yes," gasped Justin.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I'm yours," he said and, lifting his sweater up under his arms, he showed Brian all of him: hard, tense, and hot.

"Say it," Brian again demanded, burying his cock inside him.

"I'm yours," Justin moaned and Brian began pounding him hard. "I'm yours." He felt wide open, exposed, naked, as naked as the people in Lucian Freud's paintings; he felt like an animal, mindlessly fucking on the floor, and he wanted Brian to thrust even harder. "Fuck me!" he cried, listening to the wet sound of Brian's dick slamming into his hole. "Harder." Brian released his legs and leaned over him, pumping even faster. "Yes! Yes!" he groaned and wrapped his legs around his lover's hips. "Yes." Brian's saliva dripped down upon him, sweat rained on him, and he felt like he was being fucked with a log. His dick throbbed, balls rubbing up against Brian's belly. Clutching Brian's shoulders, he gave a shout and came between them, his asshole tight around Brian's cock and the man yelled and came too, head thrown back as he dropped his load. Justin reached down and ran his fingers through his cum, smeared it over Brian's lips. The older man lapped at his fingers, then lunged towards his young partner to seal their mouths with a kiss. 

 

Before they fell asleep they called back home. They rang Lindz first hoping to catch Gus before he went to bed. Luckily the Munchers were just about to bathe him when the phone rang. Even so, Brian could tell he was only a few minutes away from passing out. Giving a sleepy, "Dada," the baby said little else except to whisper, "Pooh," when Justin got on to talk to him.

"So," said Lindsay as Mel went to put the baby down, "how's London?"

"Overcast."

"And…?"

Justin was sprawled across him, head pillowed on his chest. He reached down and cupped his bare buttock. "And not bad."

She laughed. "Go to sleep. You sound worse than Gus."

"Busy day."

"And night too, I bet."

"Later." Hanging up, he nudged Justin. "Call your mom."

"Tomorrow."

"No, tonight. She'll blame me if you don't."

So Justin called Jennifer and woke up enough to tell her about the Freud exhibit and the river trip to the Tower of London. "Yeah," he replied to something she asked him and then he said, "Give Molly a kiss for me. Night."

Brian stirred when he hung up. "Yeah, what?"

Justin knew what he was alluding to. "She asked me if it was worth it. The trip."

"Worth what?"

"Everything we've been through." Of course, his answer had been yes. It was worth it, each and every tear just to be lying here in Brian's arms. To be lying anywhere in his arms. They were damn lucky and they both knew it.

Brian pulled the covers up over them. 

 

Having woke up just as Brian was putting on his gym clothes and not wanting to be parted from him even for a moment, Justin had gotten up and tagged along, saying it wouldn't hurt to work out for once. Little did he know how much it would hurt. His pride more than anything else. He'd taken it for granted that he could keep up with Brian, after all, he was nineteen and Brian was thirty-one. He hadn't expected to match the man in weight lifting but he thought he could, at least, hang with him on the treadmill. But after about fifteen minutes he found himself tiring and having to readjust the settings for a slower pace. Brian never paused. Sweat glistened on his skin and he reached for his water bottle to slake his thirst but other than that he never slowed. Finally, Justin gave up even pretending to run and took it at a walk. Which gave him an excellent opportunity to watch Brian. To observe the ease with which he ran, his long legs scissoring seemingly effortlessly. After a half hour, he stopped. Wiped his face.

"You were supposed to be running," he told Justin.

"I like watching you better." He smiled. "How fast can you run?"

Brian shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'm into endurance." Grinned.

"My marathon man," teased Justin.

"All night long."

"All day too," Justin added, remembering a few of their all-weekend fuckfests. He glanced around. There was only one other person in the room and he was busy working with the free weights. Leaning into Brian, Justin kissed him. "How about a demonstration?"

Brian asked, "You sure you're up to it? You were looking kinda ragged on the treadmill."

Leaving him, Justin sauntered towards the exit, aware of Brian's eyes on his hips. Pausing in the doorway, he slowly ran his hand over his ass, then disappeared.

Water bottle in hand, Brian followed. 

 

Since it was convenient to do so, they caught one of London's famous red double-decker buses on High Holborn Street. Justin insisted on riding in the top half so he could get a better view of the city. They got off at Newgate. Across the road was St. Paul's Cathedral. Its massive, triple-layered dome dominated the skyline, rising over three hundred and sixty feet above street level.

"Beautiful," declared Justin and Brian agreed but, then again, so many of the buildings they'd seen could be called beautiful.

"Must be tiring, to live in a city where everything is either beautiful or historically significant," he said off-handedly.

If Justin picked up on the sarcasm, he wisely ignored it. Brian had gotten a little snippy as they passed the Old Bailey, alluding to Oscar Wilde's infamous trial and harsh imprisonment. "If we had lived back then, your dad would have had me hauled in and sent to prison instead of kicking the shit out of me. And then you would have forgotten all about me and gotten married like a proper English gentleman. Become a famous artist."

All that Justin had said in reply was, "I'm still going to be a famous artist."

But Brian's complaint had been more than a casual remark. He felt it keenly here in London: the burden of history, just at the moment when he wanted to forget his own the most. To have been reminded of Wilde's mistakes had brought his own to the forefront of his mind, from where they never were for very long anyway, threatening to turn his mood morose.

Seeing that, Justin was even more determined not to let him brood. They were here to enjoy themselves, to forget the past as Brian had told him, and they would.

Nearing the cathedral, they walked around the outside since the building was closed to tourists on Sunday and they were too late for the communion service and too early for the main service—not that Brian would have gone anyway. He had an active dislike of church. Justin, meanwhile, pointed out the interesting (to him) facts about the cathedral, reading from the guidebook.

"It's the largest cathedral in England and took over thirty years to build. The original cathedral burned down in 1666." They walked to the south door and found a carved phoenix with the word Resurgam engraved on the pediment. "It means, 'I shall rise again,' " he told Brian.

"Maybe I should call my d—"

"Brian!"

He smirked. And waited for lightning to strike. When it didn't, he breathed easier. It was just as he'd always thought: God did have a sense of humor.

From the cathedral they walked across the delicate-looking Millennium Bridge to the Tate Modern. Brian looked around him warily. It didn't look strong enough to support much weight and Justin had told him that after it first opened, a wobble was discovered and the bridge had been shut down for repairs. It had only reopened six months ago. "Are you sure this is safe?" he asked, envisioning them plunging into the cold river below.

"Fraidy cat. How many people do you think walk across this thing in a day?" Justin asked.

"I don't give a fuck about them," Brian replied, "I'm worried about us. This trip cost a fortune, I'd like to make it to Milan. Even better, as drab as it is, I'd like to actually make it back to Pitts."

Justin thought he heard something in Brian's voice. "You tired of being a tourist already?"

"No." And if he were, there was no point in saying so because they still hadhad Italy, Spain, and France to go.

"Sure?"

"Can we cut the talk and just hurry up and get the fuck off this thing?" Brian growled and Justin almost laughed. Almost. Because he wanted to live to get to Florence and if he laughed, in the mood he was in, Brian was liable to toss him over the side and tell his mom it was an accident.

As they stepped off the bridge, to their left they could see the new Globe Theatre that had been built in 1997. The first Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare worked, had burned down in 1613 and the Puritans destroyed the second one in 1642 but an American director had drummed up support to have it rebuilt again. It was supposed to be an authentic reproduction of the original; it even had a thatched roof.

To say he was anxious to get to the Tate and, in particular, to the Matisse Picasso exhibit was an understatement. As excited as he'd been about seeing the Freud pieces, he couldn’t deny that the exhibition at the Tate Modern loomed over the city's artistic offerings as Matisse and Picasso had towered over the twentieth century world of art. LeGrange spoke of them in reverential tones that nearly sent most of the students at PIFA into laughing fits. Nearly. But not quite because you only had to look at their work, at the prodigious amount and the quality to see that LeGrange's respect had been earned.

Although they'd thought the Freud show had been busy, they saw that they had been mistaken. Arriving just as the doors opened, they found themselves in the middle of a massive crowd of people, all headed, Justin feared, for the fourth floor where the Matisse Picasso exhibition was being held. Still, Justin was determined not to let it bother him. After all, how many chances would he get to see all of these pieces together in one place? Masterpieces by two of the giants of modern art. Xavier would have killed to have been here. Maybe he would see the show when it came to New York. Justin hoped so.

Brian glanced at his program and sighed inwardly. Fourteen rooms. God help him. And the crowd was only growing. It'd take them over an hour alone to get through just this exhibit and that still left two more massive floors to explore. Fucking place was huge. Who knew there was that much art in the world? And did they have to see it all? 'Important work,' Justin's words. Brian paused in recounting his grievances because the teenager was no longer beside him. Looking around he spotted Justin still standing before Picasso's self-portrait. He went back and waited.

"He painted this when he was twenty-five."

"Wonder what he was thinking about?"

Justin turned, cocked his head, unsure for a moment if Brian was being serious. He seemed to be. Truthfully, the teen was surprised that Brian had lasted this long. This was their third day of sightseeing and their third museum, with a fourth on their agenda for this afternoon. He had to be getting tired of it. Even though he had become a pretty good amateur photographer, Brian often told Justin that 'the fuckin' camera does all the work' and he refused to consider himself an artist. So what was he making of all this art? Still, he put that thought aside and answered Brian's question as best he could. "Paul Cezanne had just died and both he and Matisse admired him a lot. Maybe he was thinking about that. Maybe," he said, as the program had suggested, "he was thinking about what it would be like, not having someone like Cezanne standing over him, that now was his chance to take the spotlight."

"Scary."

"Picasso?" Justin laughed. "I don't think he was ever afraid of anything."

"You never know," Brian replied, studying the painting more closely. "People hide things all the time. Keep secrets even from themselves."

The way I kept refusing to see how much trouble you were in? Justin asked himself. Out loud, "I guess."

Brian paused before the other Picasso in the room, "Boy Leading a Horse". "I know this one. I saw it in an encyclopedia. When I was a kid."

"And you remembered it?"

"I used to wonder what it would be like to ride a horse." He turned. "Looked peaceful. Maybe I should ask Molly, she'd know."

Justin followed him into the next room, wondering if he'd ever learn everything there was to learn about his lover. Just when he thought he'd figured him out, Brian surprised him. Maybe he surprised himself. Maybe that's what life was all about, constantly surprising yourself and the people around you. Reinventing yourself. No. Rediscovering yourself. Maybe that's what great artists were able to do that others couldn't.

In room four, the exhibition's main thrust, that the two artists influenced and challenged one another became apparent in a series of portraits they'd done of various women. The paintings all showed characteristics of Cubism, which had been developed by Picasso and Braque and was influenced by African art. And who had introduced Picasso to African art? Matisse.

"Just think," Brian said, "one day people will be walking through an exhibit talking about how you and Xavier influenced and competed with one another."

"He's a lot better than I am," he replied, then paused. "But I'm getting better and one day I'll catch up with him."

"You'll pass him by."

Brian was amazed that the crowd had ceased to annoy him. One moment he'd been aware of the incessant chatter, of the relentless press of a hundred people's psyches against his own and, in the next, they had dropped from his sight. They were still there, physically in the rooms with them, only they no longer mattered. All that mattered was Justin and the art. As they walked through the other rooms, pointing out familiar works, "I know that one," about "Three Musicians" and "Harlequin", they talked about the future, about what Justin was going to do once he'd graduated (luckily three years away); and about Brian's impending partnership which would probably happen a lot sooner.

"You work too hard as is, if you're made a partner, it'll only mean more work."

Brian gestured to the works around them. "You think they slept eight hours a night?"

"What about me?"

"What about you?" Brian asked. "You'll be doing this. It's not like we're joined at the hip now."

Justin looked down. "I miss you."

Lifting his chin with his hand, Brian kissed him softly. "I haven't gone anywhere." But he understood that for a little while Justin would be unsure of him, having nearly lost him.

"Not without me," the teen clarified and Brian wanted to take him in his arms and hold him until the cold lump of fear in the pit of his stomach melted.

How fucking close did I come to killing us both? It frightened him, even now, that he had almost thrown both their lives away.

Turning the conversation away from himself, he asked, "So you still want to be a computer animator? Work for Disney?" he teased.

"I hate fucking Disney. Their Tarzan sucked big time. I would work for Dreamworks or Pixar though."

"We'd have to move," Brian reminded him. "No studios in Pittsburgh."

"Maybe I could start my own company. Right there in Pitts."

"I wouldn't mind living in LaLa Land," said Brian. "Gus could learn to surf."

Exiting the Tate some two hours and a half hours after they'd entered it, the two lovers went in search of food. Heading down river along the Millennium Walk, they spotted the Oxo Tower Wharf. The concierge at the hotel had told them that if they were interested in art and design, that was the place to go. Plus, it had a restaurant on the eighth floor. So they went inside and Brian thought Justin would explode. The building housed thirty-three retail studios where the designers actually worked and sold their pieces. On the first floor was a gallery space with free admission to the public; they walked through an exhibition of photographs detailing the influence of street advertising in London. Brian was impressed both by the ads and the photography. But the most impressive feature of the building was that in between the second and eighth floors were five floors of low-rent housing flats. That was a concept: low-rent apartments and high-end design studios occupying the same building.

The restaurant looked over the river, offering a spectacular view and food that wasn't half bad. After lunch, they hurried back downstairs and browsed the shops, actually picking up a few things as gifts to ship back home. Brian got Gus a couple of tee-shirts from Little Badger which sold children's clothing. Neither he nor Justin understood the appeal but the promotional material said that their designs had been bought by or for Madonna, Nicole Kidman, and Bono. What the hell. Although it did smart a little to pay forty dollars for a kid's tee-shirt even if it was handmade.

They went into this studio called Salt that sold designer blinds and Brian had to keep himself from purchasing some leather strip blinds for the bedroom in the loft. Although the textured blinds would have looked fabulous, 1) he didn't have the precise measurements for the windows around the bedroom and 2) he and Justin were seriously thinking about finding a new place. They hadn't discussed it for a while but Justin really needed a place to work when he was home and it'd be nice to have a room for Gus when he visited and maybe an office to work in himself where he didn't have to listen to The Powerpuff Girls on the television or The Crystal Method on the stereo unless he wanted to. Still, he took one of their cards just in case. Who knew? Maybe they'd move into a place a lot like the loft and he could still use the blinds. It could happen.

They also swung by Gabriel's Wharf, which was just a two minute walk away from the Oxo Tower and perused the shops there as well. Got Lindsay an embroidered jacket from Lauren Shanley. Brian wasn't too sure but Justin assured him that she'd love it.

Although it was slightly overcast (as usual) it was a pleasant day and the two men took their time meandering down the Millennium Walk towards County Hall where the Dali Universe was located. Despite the fact that they were coming back to the area that evening to ride on the London Eye, they wanted to see things in the broad daylight.

As they passed the Somerset House which housed fine art as well as part of the state government, Brian tugged on Justin's arm. Just the thought of going through another gallery or museum, in addition to the Dali, made him feel a little dizzy.

Walking through the Jubilee gardens towards the London Eye, Brian again felt disoriented. That feeling was amplified as they stood beneath the wheel and looked up towards the sky. The apex of the wheel was one hundred and thirty-five metres off the ground, allowing riders a viewing range of nearly twenty-five miles.

"That is going to be too awesome," Justin said, shading his eyes as he watched the viewing pods slowly rise and fall. "It takes almost a half hour to make a complete revolution."

"Don't tell me," replied Brian, closing his eyes. Why the fuck had he said he'd do it? The ballooning they'd done during their weekend in the country had been bad enough but at least the balloon had moved relatively quickly. This was like slowly watching your death approach without having any recourse but to wait for it. Stupid. And yet, he was going to do it. For his baby. 

 

Having gone through the entire Dali Universe, the one thing Brian could remember really clearly was the red sofa shaped like Mae West's lips. It would have looked perfect in Mikey and Emmett's place. Totally tacky. In fact, a lot of the Dali stuff would have looked perfect in their apartment. Maybe Michael and Emmett were secretly geniuses. Brian smirked. Or maybe Dali was not-so-secretly insane. Checking Justin's watch, Brian suggested heading back to the hotel.

"I could use a nap," Justin said.

"It'll have to be a short one. We've got early dinner reservations."

So they took the tube back to the Russell Street station and walked slowly to the hotel. They would have walked quickly but they were both bushed. "Don't let me forget to mail this stuff off tomorrow," meaning the presents they'd bought, Brian told Justin.

"Um-hm," he replied, which was all Brian was going to get at that moment.

How they made it to the room was a mystery to them both. When they woke up forty-five minutes later, the alarm ringing, neither of them remembered setting it or even closing their eyes for that matter. Still, whether they remembered or not, they had a dinner reservation to make in an hour which meant showering and dressing, jacket included, and getting back across the river. When Brian would have gotten them a taxi, Justin suggested that they take the tube instead.

"We can take a taxi back."

"Suit yourself."

Although both trains were crowded and they had to take a short walk from the Embankment station to the Savoy Hotel they arrived at the River Restaurant in good shape and in good time. It was really strange to see cars driving on the right hand side of the street, the only place in London where they did that. Once they were inside, Justin looked around feeling a little uncomfortable. This was, by far, the most traditional (read: stodgy) place they'd eaten yet and he felt very young and very gay. Worse, he felt as if everyone was looking at him. Brian, as usual, if he did notice, affected not to care and soon Justin found himself somewhat adopting his attitude if not quite matching it. They were here to have dinner, not challenge the other diners' tolerance. If they didn't like having the two of them in their midst, they could just Fuck off he said to himself. Brian would have been proud.

With less than ninety minutes to eat and make it to the London Eye by eight thirty for their nine o'clock ride, the two decided to only have starters and a main course. While Justin began his meal with a tomato tart with glazed goat's cheese and basil dressing, Brian watched the waiter carve his wild smoked Scottish salmon right at the table. Biting into it was like eating salmon-flavored butter. Even Justin deigned to take a bite and pronounced it perfect. For dinner they both ordered the roasted lobster in a light curry sauce with smelt eggs. Justin wasn't quite sure what smelt eggs were.

"Smelt is a fish," Brian answered.

"Fish eggs?"

"Like caviar. Just eat it," he told him, "and don't think about what it is."

Despite his initial hesitation, they proved to be delicious. And the view was perfect. They'd managed to get seated by the window and spent most of dinner (when they weren't staring into one another's eyes) looking out at the riverfront, over at Cleopatra's Needle, and across the river at the Tate and the London Eye. In a little while they'd be on the other side, looking back across where they'd just been.

Dinner finished, they got back on the train and rode across the Thames, getting to the Eye a full half hour before their ride as they'd been instructed. Justin felt like he had firecrackers inside his stomach. Brian had booked a private capsule for their ride where they'd be served champagne by their own private waiter. Justin hoped the waiter didn't mind watching them snuggle cause he had a feeling a lot of snuggling would be going on. And not just from the champagne but because Brian looked like he'd swallowed Drano. Trying to put on a brave front, he pretended like he didn't care that they were about to slowly ascend into the air inside a mostly clear capsule but Justin knew better, knew that Brian's stomach was probably a little queasy right about now. He'd have to rub it for him when they got aloft.

The moment the attendants closed the door of the capsule Brian began to wonder if he hadn't lost his mind. What the fuck was he doing? At least they were alone (not including the waiter) so none of the other passengers would see how shaken he was by the entire experience. Justin knew, of course, but Justin would endeavor to make him feel better without it seeming like that was what he was doing. He had a way of calming Brian without calling attention to his actions and Brian appreciated it. He needed that sometimes more than anything. This would probably be one of those times.

After pouring their champagne and handing them each a glass, the waiter retired a discreet distance and sat waiting in case they had questions or wanted more champagne. Most people ended up finishing off the bottle as they watched the city go by. And most of the couples ended up making out at some point during the ride. He didn't think they'd be any different. Of course, he wouldn't exactly mind if they did. "They were gorgeous," he would tell his friends later. "I got a stiffy just watching them drink champagne."

Justin before him, Brian wrapped an arm about the teen and sipped his wine and, in a little while, he forgot how high up they were, just concentrated on the champagne and Justin. Bending his head, he brushed his lips over the teen's neck. Justin half-turned and cupped his face. They kissed, heedless of their audience and of their private view of London.

It didn't last. As soon as the brightly-lit face of Big Ben came into view, they both lost themselves in the beauty of the city and Brian got out his camera and began photographing their nighttime ride. Waving the waiter over, he got the young man to take their picture, outlined against the city skyline. They'd taken precious few together as it wasn't generally wise to hand over an expensive camera to perfect strangers. Hesitantly, the waiter snapped a picture, then shyly handed Brian the Nikon. He would have probably gone back to his corner and resumed his silent vigil if Justin hadn't smiled at him in such a friendly way that he began to feel comfortable around them.

"You're from America, then?"

"Pittsburgh."

"The Steelers."

"Yeah," replied Justin with a frown. "I don't really like football."

"Least not American football. Now European football, I love."

"Did you watch the World Cup?"

"Every day. It was brilliant!"

Brian smiled softly, then returned to the view outside. Leave it to Justin to make a friend no matter where he went. Even though he never said anything, it had to be hard, not having someone his own age to talk to, to piss around with, do the things teenagers did together. Hell, he knew how it had been with him and Mikey, how it still was. Only… things were changing between them. They had begun to rely less and less on one another and more on themselves or, in Brian's case, on Justin. He supposed that's the way life was. You grew up and grew apart. But maybe they'd grow back together again, in different ways. He looked down to see Justin at his side once more, his new friend having gone into the corner again.

He had the bottle of champagne in his hands. "There's some left."

Brian took it and filled their glasses. "Not anymore." Set the bottle down. "Cheers."

"To us."

"To us."

So they drank the last of the champagne as their ride drew to a close.

Glad to be back on the ground again, Brian admitted that he had enjoyed the ride. Justin waved to Gary the waiter and they set off walking down the riverbank until they found a relatively secluded section where there was a bench and sat looking at the opposite bank of the Thames.

"So what do you want to do now?" Brian asked. "You wanna go dancing or to a pub or something?"

"How about back to the room?"

"Tired?"

"I would love to take a hot bath," Justin said. "Maybe order some dessert and have it in bed. And we could call Gus before he falls asleep."

Smiling, Brian thought, I guess that's what married people do.

"What?" asked Justin, nudging him with his elbow.

"Nothing." Brian stood, held out his hand and they walked like that, hand-in-hand, to the tube station. 

 

Lying in the tub with his feet up on the porcelain edges, Brian relaxed and let the bubbles soothe his tired body. Justin lay in his arms, head beneath his chin, moving only to breathe. It was nice, just being together, just touching one another without any thought of sex. To just be who they were, part of a pair, to be complete in and of themselves and to be content with their bonding. And Brian thought that it was moments like this that kept them together, not the wild fucking or the insane arguments or the seemingly endless crises that they faced but these moments, these quiet moments of togetherness, when he didn't doubt himself or their love because it seemed… right somehow. Without explanation, without logic or reason. When he felt, down to the marrow in his bones, that here was where he was meant to be, right now, with Justin. And nothing else mattered, nothing else could matter because nothing existed beyond them, nothing important anyway. And, yet, everything important was a part of them: Gus, and their families, and their friends, and the things they'd seen, and the places they'd been, all of that was part of them, they carried those things, those people, inside of them. How could he feel weak, feel unsure or uncertain, when so much good was encompassed in him? He couldn't.

Having soaked almost to the pruning point, they vacated the tub and toweled off, slipped into their robes and called Room Service, had them send up a huge piece of cheesecake which the two of them shared while talking to the folks back home.

Gus related some story to Brian that Lindsay had to interpret for him as he only understood one out of every five or six words. But the baby's speech was clear enough when he asked, "Where Dadda?"

"Dadda's in London," Brian told him. "Can you say that? Lon don."

"Lo."

"Lon don."

Instead of trying it again, Gus moved on to his next concern. "Dadda. Where Pooh?"

"Pooh's with me," he said and handed the phone to Justin.

"Hey, Gus."

"Pooh!"

"Is Gus being a good boy?"

Gus giggled. It was something his Mommy asked him all the time. "No!" he yelled and Justin laughed. That was Brian's son all right.

Lindsay came on and told Justin that Gus was not being a good boy at all and that he missed his daddy and Pooh. "So, are you having a wonderful time?"

"The art is incredible. We saw the Matisse Picasso show today and it was unbelievable."

"I went up to New York to the Picasso in Portraiture exhibit at MOMA. You forget how good he was because you hear his name so much. It's almost laughable how long he lived and how much he did before he died. You tell yourself, he couldn't have been that talented. But he was."

"I feel like I'm never going to be that good," he told her.

"Maybe not. He was a genius. Like da Vinci or Michelangelo. Maybe there won't be museums dedicated to your work. But if you're true to your art, that's all that matters."

With a glimpse at his lover, Justin said, "Brian says modesty's for losers." The man raised a brow but said nothing.

"It's not modesty. It's being realistic. Not everyone can expect to be the toast of the town." She smiled and he could feel it even though they were an ocean apart. "Maybe you will be. Brian believes in you and that means something. He doesn't waste his time on losers."

Watching Brian pick at the cheesecake, he agreed. "No. He doesn't."

After talking to Lindsay and Gus, Brian called Michael and they laughed for ten or fifteen minutes. Seemed Deb had gone out on a double date with Vic. He'd met this guy who had a brother who was straight. The gay one was a little nervous about dating since he'd just been diagnosed HIV+ and his brother was trying to encourage him so they all went to this Italian restaurant together. Everyone had a great time and when the evening was over, Vic and the brother ended up at his place and Deb ended up with a doggie bag.

"Everything going all right?" Michael asked.

"Perfect."

Michael smiled and Brian could tell that he had even though he couldn't see him. "You don't say that very often. Unless you're talking about yourself."

"It's true. I am perfect."

"Asshole."

"And I have a perfect asshole. Just ask Justin."

The teen had been in the middle of taking the last bite of the cheesecake and he almost choked. "Brian?!"

Laughing, Michael said goodnight and hung up. Brian replaced the phone in its cradle. Lay staring at Justin who was on his stomach and apparently trying to conjure up more cheesecake by using the power of his mind. At least, that's what Brian figured was happening by the intense way he was looking at the empty plate and the last few crumbs that clung to the smooth surface. Shaking his head, he untied his robe and dropped it to the floor, then got under the covers. He didn't intend to sleep, just to wait until Justin made up his mind what kind of dessert he wanted: cheesecake or beefcake. Wrinkling his nose at how dorky beefcake sounded, Brian yawned and it was all over.

Justin looked around and couldn't believe that Brian had conked out. Probably just as well. He'd felt so relaxed after their bath that he hadn't really wanted to get all worked up again but sex with Brian was something he never turned down if offered. So it worked out all right all around. Only, he wasn't really sleepy. Tired, yes, but just pleasantly so. Maybe if he did a little sketching he'd get in the frame of mind to go to sleep.

Unfortunately, as soon as he got out his sketch pad the gerbil started on the wheel and he began to think about what Brian had said about him not drawing him anymore and the lame excuse he'd given him. Well, here he was, awake, and Brian was asleep. The perfect opportunity. So he began to sketch, keeping his eyes on his lover although he no longer needed to look at him in order to accurately draw him. He watched him for the tiny clues that revealed his personality, the feel of him as he slept this time as opposed to all the other times. He watched him to discover the secrets that Brian kept about himself, sometimes even from himself. And he watched him because he found him beautiful, because it pleased him to look at him. He hadn't equivocated about that. Sometimes he'd lie next to Brian and just gaze at him, tempted to touch him, to make sure he was real, not believing that he could be, despite the warmth of his body, its solidity. And sometimes he did touch him, brush his hand over his chest or arm or back.

The quick portrait finished, he closed his pad and crawled into bed without disturbing his lover and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close; Brian stirred once, then settled down. 

 

Taking their breakfast in the garden, Brian and Justin went over the activities left on their list of things to do. They only had two more full days in the city, today and tomorrow, and then they'd be off to Rome on Wednesday.

"You sure you aren't museumed out?" Justin asked, using Brian's word for it.

"I told you, as many as you wanted."

"We don’t have to go to the National Gallery. I can see all the Italian Renaissance art I want in Italy."

Brian sipped his juice. "It's up to you." He smiled and slipped on his sunglasses. "I just like being with you."

Justin rolled his eyes. "You are so full of it."

"You don’t believe me?" He reached across the table in full view of the other couples out on the terrace and took Justin's hand. Rubbed his fingers. Justin started to withdraw his hand as they had attracted a bit of attention and then stopped. He liked it when Brian was affectionate towards him in public. He leaned over and kissed Brian's hand.

"I believe you."

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

"National Gallery, then an afternoon in Soho. Maybe we can find some more gifts in Covent Garden."

"Maybe. I cannot wait for dinner tonight." They were going to the Sugar Club, a trendy place that featured Pacific-rim inspired modern fusion cuisine, whatever the hell that meant. Expensive and strange. But probably good. Brian looked down at his stomach and patted it. He'd skipped the gym this morning but maybe they'd get back to the hotel this evening in time for him to do a few minutes on the treadmill before heading back out for dinner. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, referring to the fact that he'd fallen asleep last night before they'd had a chance to have sex.

"You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to disturb you. Besides, I like just being with you sometimes."

"Tired of sex already?" teased Brian.

"No."

"Good, because we've got at least a few more years before it becomes boring, stale, and repetitive."

"A few?"

"Decades. Two or three."

"You're only going to have sex until you get in your sixties?" asked Justin incredulously.

"Don't say that. I don't even want to think about being—"

"I bet you'll be the hottest sixty-one-year-old—"

"Stop it."

"I bet you'll be hot even when you're seventy," grinned Justin.

"You know, young man, you're not too big for me to take over my knee."

Justin half-closed his eyes, parted his lips and whispered, "Oh, daddy... promises, promises."

Wanting to take him upstairs that very moment and make good on his threat, Brian, instead, finished off his orange juice and hoped his hard-on wouldn't be visible when he got up.

"I've got something for you," Justin told him.

"I know. And we don't have time for you to give it to me."

Justin laughed and reached for his backpack, slumped in one of the empty chairs between them. "No. This." He took out a folded sheet of paper and handed it across the table.

Smiling, Brian unfolded it and paused. It was a drawing of him. Asleep. He recognized the detailing on the covers. "You did this last night?"

"Yeah." Shyly, Justin asked, "You like it?"

For a moment he didn't speak, then he said, "It's amazing." And it was. He couldn't imagine how Justin did it. Even having watched him, the process seemed magical. With photography it was simple: you pointed and clicked. Granted, there was more to it than that: you chose your subject, you had to imagine what the picture would look like before you took it, you had to choose the settings on the camera to try and capture that image in your head but it wasn't like drawing. He couldn’t explain it, except that it felt different. Maybe because he thought of Justin as an artist and he thought of himself as someone who dabbled.

Carefully he refolded the picture and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He thought of the sketch of himself that he'd bought at the Gay and Lesbian Center's art show, that he'd kept in the closet until Justin moved in for good. They'd hung it in the niche by the chaise chair. Whenever he looked at it he imagined Justin watching him as he slept, already so in love with him that he hadn't been able to hide it, drawing him furtively in the night, pouring all of his love into a sketch that he hadn't thought Brian would ever see because it hadn't been about displaying his talent, it'd been about expressing his feelings in the way most natural to him: to draw the object of his affection. He remembered buying it, not quite sure why, just knowing that he had to have it. He'd told himself that he was doing it because he was vain, because it was a good likeness but that hadn't been the real reason. The real reason had been something that he hadn't been able to face, to articulate, still couldn't. Except that he'd responded to a need deep inside him, almost unconsciously. Even now, he still didn't know why he'd purchased it, only that the drawing was a part of it, a part of the bond that held them together.

"You okay?" Justin asked, a little frown between his brows.

"Yeah." He pushed back from the table. "We gotta go, don't we?"

Justin checked his watch. "Shit." 

 

Whereas wandering through the other museums this weekend had been like exploring a foreign country, being in the National Gallery was like rediscovering the place where you lived. The works were at once familiar even to someone who wouldn't necessarily consider themselves well-versed in art. These were the biggies, the ones that had entered pop culture. "Hey," Brian said, pointing to the painting "Bacchus and Ariadne", "They used that on the Crash Test Dummies album cover."

"You like the Crash Test Dummies?"

He shrugged. "They're okay."

Which meant yes. Justin shook his head. Brian would never change. Which was fine with him.

Standing in front of Carravaggio's "Supper at Emmaus" Justin asked, "Did you know he was gay?"

"I saw a film about him. Weird. But good."

"When?"

"A while back. I was fucking this guy who was into art and shit. He had a hard-on for the director. A writer." Graham. And his porno novels. He smiled. Guy had had some imagination.

"Thought you never did the same guy twice?"

Instead of answering, Brian sauntered onwards. Wasn't good to have Justin know everything about his past. A little mystery was good.

Walking through the East Wing Justin exclaimed, "How many paintings did Turner do?" because the National Gallery had a handful too in addition to the ones at the Tate. They all displayed Turner's fascination with light.

They saw Van Gogh's "Sunflowers"--"I'm not cutting off my ear for you," Brian told Justin.--and paintings by Seurat and talked about Stephen Sondheim's musical, Sunday in the Park with George.

"Never saw it," Justin said, "but my mom has the cast recording. It's good. But I like Into the Woods better."

Cause we saw it together, Brian mused to himself. That had been a good night.

Before heading to lunch, they walked around Trafalgar Square and Brian took pictures of Justin standing at the base.

"Let me take one of you."

"That's okay."

"No, I want to," Justin insisted so Brian surrendered the camera and posed while Justin took a couple shots of him and hoped the teen hadn't cut off his head. Truthfully, he was anxious to get to the restaurant, Asia de Cuba. It was located in the St. Martins Lane Hotel which was owned by Ian Schrager and had been designed by Phillippe Starck. He would have loved to have stayed in the hotel but he had sensed that Justin preferred something quieter, more romantic, and he had to admit that it was nice to leave the hubbub at night and return to the quiet and serenity of the Montague.

Walking through the revolving doors of the hotel, Justin could see why Brian had been excited about coming here. It reminded him of the loft: minimalist and tasteful. But, somehow, he liked their hotel better. The Montague felt like real people stayed there, people who ate Cheerios and played video games and liked watching television, whereas the St. Martins Lane felt like the people who stayed there probably were on television. The beautiful people. Brian's kind of people. Sometimes it amazed him that they had ever gotten together when they hadn't had anything in common. Or so it had seemed. Over the years he'd begun to realize that they did have things in common or, maybe, they were growing together, changing their tastes in subtle ways to fit one another. He actually loved the loft even though it was nothing like any place he'd ever imagined himself living in. It was beautiful. This hotel was beautiful. He wondered what was going to happen when he and Brian went looking for a new place to live. The loft was rapidly becoming too small to hold them and all their stuff. Plus, Gus was growing up and, eventually, he'd be too big to share their bed. They needed a bigger place. Looking around at the walls painted in cool, muted tones and the hip, artsy furniture that populated the hotel, Justin tried to imagine what their house would look like, tried to imagine himself living in a place like this. Oh well, it wasn't like they were moving tomorrow.

Although they were eating in the main dining room, Brian got the maitre d' to show them the Backroom, an all white marble room with a one of a kind Starck-designed crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "Beautiful," he pronounced it and returned to the dining room quite content.

Justin noticed that Starck had a thing for blue neon too. Maybe because it was soothing. The food was interesting. He refused to eat the tuna tartare but he did eat the wonton crisps that came with it, dipping them in the lime vinaigrette. The beef spring rolls were delicious as were the shrimp satay. The calamari salad was, as Daphne would have said, 'to die for' as was dessert: banana and chocolate mousses with a caramel sauce. "We should have come here last night for dinner," he told Brian and the man agreed, both of them imagining how good the pot roasted pork with a honey and rum glaze would have tasted or the seabass stuffed with crab. But the view at the Savoy had been unbeatable. And they imagined that it would have been loud and crowded at Asia de Cuba whereas they had been able to carry on a private conversation at the River Restaurant while looking out at the Thames. 

 

Having walked from the restaurant to get rid of the full feeling from lunch, they set out to explore Covent Garden Market, especially the Apple Market and Jubilee Market where small, independent sellers marketed their wares. Although most of the activity took place Tuesday through Sunday and the stalls that sold arts and crafts were closed on Monday, the antique stalls were open as were the ones selling assorted bric-a-brac.

Justin stopped at one that sold vintage clothing and picked up a brightly colored scarf. Nana Rose would love it and it'd go perfectly with some of her stuff. He could just see her with it on, preening for all to see. He smiled and ran his fingers over the cloth.

"That's colorful," Brian said of it. "Your mom?"

"No." Too late he realized that he'd have to tell Brian the truth and he didn't have any idea how he'd take it.

"Deb?" Although it wasn't really her style. Too tame.

"Nope." He tried to keep it light, hoped Brian would leave it alone but he knew that he wouldn't.

Brian laughed. "Not Lindsay or Mel?"

"Uh-uh." Brian, let it go.

"I know! Daphne," he said, pleased that he'd finally guessed correctly although they were running out of women that they both knew anyway. Rennie would never wear anything like that and Molly was too young. His mom was out of the question: she'd spontaneously combust.

"No," replied Justin, in a slightly subdued tone.

What had started out as idle curiosity and progressed into a game had now become something else and Brian wasn't sure if he wanted to continue. But he'd come this far. "Then who?"

Justin paused, with the cloth in his hand. "Nana Rose."

"Oh." He took a step towards another stall and stopped, uncertain as to what to do or say.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?"

He attempted to shrug it off. "Why should I care?"

But Justin noticed that he hadn't denied it. "Brian—"

"It doesn't matter." He took a deep breath and stopped. Justin neared him. The woman running the stall seemed to be doing her best not to overhear their conversation although she was less than five feet away. They should have gone outside—should have just dropped it but he couldn't. He'd promised Drew, promised Justin that they would talk things out and he didn't know if his courage would hold out if they had to walk outside because he was afraid, scared to death of unraveling what they had worked so hard to piece back together. Looking away from Justin, he said, "I know that it shouldn't bother me… but it does. Why should I care about you buying something for a woman who's old enough to be your fuckin grandmother? I shouldn't. I don't. Except…" Fuck. He did not want to get into this right now. "I feel like… like it's not really about her, that it's really just a way for you to hold onto Xavier."

Justin felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. "Brian—" It wasn't fair, that wasn't what he was doing. Ordinarily, it would have been hard to keep his voice down, to speak in a normal tone but he was so tired that it wasn't a problem. "I don't know what else I can do. I don't know why you won't believe me. I keep telling you that it's over, that it's done with and you keep calling me a liar."

"No—"

"What more do you want from me? What can I do to prove to you that I love you?" He blinked a couple of times to keep them away but the tears came anyway because it was so not fair, he just— "I'm so tired… of all of this. I just…" and he walked off, his words trailing behind him because he couldn't continue the conversation, he just couldn't.

Left alone, Brian didn't dare look after him. Or follow. He stood, lost in indecision, trapped by a helplessness that was all to familiar. Christ. What the fuck was he doing? Hearing a sound behind him, he half-turned, caught the stall's owner ducking her head, trying to look away from him. She'd probably heard every word. "I'm sorry," he said. "Can't be good for business."

"What?" she asked smiling. "Two gorgeous men hanging around my place?"

He would have returned her smile if he could. "Us. Arguing." Absentmindedly he rubbed his ring. "All we seem to do anymore."

"You must really love each other then."

That made him laugh. "Why? Because we fight like cats and dogs?"

"You wouldn't, otherwise," she explained.

Moving closer to her table, he asked, "So that's what couples do? Argue all the time?"

"The ones that love each other. If you didn't care, you wouldn't bother to fight."

He shook his head. "Here I was hoping one day we'd get it right, one day we'd stop." As he debated mentally whether or not he should go after Justin, he thought of the drawing the teenager had given him. Removed it from his pocket and looked at it, forgetting he wasn't alone.

The owner peered over his arm. "He draw that?"

"Yeah."

"He's good."

"He's in art school."

"Here?"

"Back in the States."

"Ah." Giving the drawing another look, she went back to the booth and busied herself with refolding the scarf Justin had been admiring. "You going to go after him?" He turned and she waved a hand. "Sorry. None of my business."

"No," he replied, "it's okay. Your stall."

Pausing, she asked, "Well?"

"He's been through so much shit with me. Because of me." Studied the picture. "Things he never should have had to deal with. I know it's not fair. And it's not worth it either. I'm not worth it."

"I'd wager he doesn't feel that way."

"Yeah, he does. He just won't say it. Because he thinks I'm not strong enough to hear it."

The woman shook her head. "He knows how strong you are. You can see it in that drawing." She gestured to it. "Look at it. Tell me you don't see it."

So he looked, really studied the drawing, seeing nothing and, just as he was about to tell her so, he saw it, the strength implied in his posture, in his features, a strength Justin saw in him, that he depended on. "He shouldn't," he said half to himself.

"But he does." A mischievous look lit up her face. "So? What are you going to do?"

And she reminded him so much of Deb at that moment that he chuckled. "You've got a twin in Pittsburgh."

"Everyone does somewhere, they say."

He lifted the scarf. "How much?"

"Even trade. It for the sketch." But he shook his head. "Didn't think so. Twenty-five quid."

Figuring that Justin had probably left the market altogether, Brian went outside and found him sitting on a bench as far from the other shoppers as possible. He could tell, when Justin looked up at his arrival, that he'd been crying. And why not? He'd felt like crying himself. Brian sat next to him and held out the bag with the scarf inside. "Here."

"I don't want it."

"It's not for you. It's for Nana Rose."

With very little grace, Justin took the bag and stuffed it into his backpack.

Brian watched the traffic in and out of the market for a while before speaking. "I'm sorry."

"You always say that."

"And I always mean it."

"I—" Helplessly, "Brian…"

He sniffled. Thumbed his eyes. He couldn't cry here, not in front of all these fucking people, not on their fucking vacation, their honeymoon as they jokingly (and not so jokingly) called it. He grimaced and took out the drawing once more. Handed it to Justin. "I can't be that person all the time," he explained. "I can't always be strong or know what to do."

"I've never asked you to," Justin countered.

"Sometimes, I get scared, Justin."

"I get scared too."

"I know, baby."

"Sometimes, I just need you to understand and… it hurts when you don't because I don't know how to explain it, what I feel—" Because you should know. You're part of me and you should know. But you don't.

Brian took the teen into his arms and held him close. "I know how you feel," he told him. Whispered in his ear, struggling to breathe through a throat that had suddenly constricted, "You're my life. Don't you know that?"

Leaning his forehead against Brian's shoulder, Justin tightened his hold on the man.

"You're crushing my picture," Brian said and they parted, Justin snickering a little.

"Asshole."

"That's me. And you love me, don't you?" Justin handed him the sketch and stood up, preparing to leave him on the bench. But Brian caught hold of the back of his shirt and kept him from going very far. "Don’t you?"

Justin leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. 

 

Before they left the area, they stopped in front of St. Paul's Church and watched the street performers. There was a young violin player serenading the crowd, his dark hair falling over into his eyes. Brian tossed a couple of pounds into his case but Justin tugged on his lover's arm and whispered as they left, "I hate violin music." 

 

"You're not ordering the kangaroo?" Justin asked begging Brian with his eyes not to.

"I've never had it."

"It's quite good," said the waiter.

"Don't tell him that."

Brian rolled his eyes. He'd never hear the end of it if he ordered the kangaroo because every time they ate together Justin would remember it—and they had way too many meals left in this lifetime to have together. "I've changed my mind. I'll have the seared scallops."

Breathing easier, Justin ordered an appetizer as well. "The avacado and spring vegetable rice paper roll, please."

"Very good," the waiter replied and he went away to get their starters while they mused over the main courses.

"I bet Gus is gonna love his new teddy bear."

Brian grunted. "He'd better. You'd think it was made of gold instead of flammable materials."

"But I don't think it'll take Beh's place."

Grinning, Brian said, "Did you know Lindsay had his leathers cleaned?"

Justin laughed. "No way."

"I wonder what the dry cleaners thought when they got the chaps?"

"And the harness."

"She got shoe leather polish for that."

"You gonna wait until his birthday to give him the new bear?"

"And not have a new toy for him when we get back?"

"You ever have partridge?" Brian shook his head. "I think he'll be so glad to see us he won't care about any old toy." He closed the menu. "I think I'm gonna get the partridge."

"Oh, you can eat partridge in a pear tree but I can't have kangaroo?"

Ignoring him, Justin looked around. Not as cool in tone as Asia de Cuba, the Sugar Club seemed to strike just the right balance between being hip and being inviting. There was a warmth about it that made him feel comfortable whereas Asia de Cuba had made him aware of his every flaw. Still, the food had been good.

Brian sipped on his cocktail and watched his partner people-watch. Thought about the episode they'd had at the Apple Market, proof that they still had a ways to go before they'd completely healed the rift between them. Which was what Drew had told him before he left Pittsburgh. "Don't expect everything to be hunky dory just because you're on vacation." "Hunky dory?" "Shut up and listen to what I'm saying." "I am listening." And he had been. Glancing up as the waiter reappeared, he answered, in response to his query, "The grilled fillet steak. Rare."

"I'll have the partridge," Justin told him and the waiter went away again. "He's cute."

"Uh-huh," replied Brian, preparing to taste the scallops to see if they were as juicy as they looked.

"But not as cute as you." He waited for Brian to look up and when he did, he smiled.

"Eat your food and stop flirting with me."

"Is it working?"

"Ask me later."

With a devious laugh, Justin stuffed one of the spring rolls in his mouth.

"What technique," observed Brian, in awe of the teen's ability.

"It was just a little one," he explained and they both nearly spit out their food giggling. 

 

Tumbling out into the late night air, having had many glasses of wine apiece, the two raved about the fabulous food they'd had that day and decided to walk for a while to try and burn off some calories—before they got back to the room, that is—and to clear their heads.

As they passed the movie theatres in Leicester Square, Brian asked if Justin wanted to go in and see a flick.

"Nope." He headed for the park. "Let's just hang out. Okay?"

"Whatever," Brian replied and followed.

Somewhere someone was playing The Counting Crows and Justin bopped across the street, head keeping rhythm with the music. By the time they reached the fountain, he was openly dancing. Arms up over his head, Justin snapped his fingers to the beat and bounced the way he did on the dance floor at Babylon. Brian smiled and resisted any attempts by the teen to get him to dance with him.

 _"Into the greater grey that covers over every day_ …" 3

"Come on," Justin said and Brian relented because he was irresistible, he was like the Pied Piper, and the night seemed magical even though it was nothing like the fairy tales. Laughing, they danced around the fountain, Justin leading the way and Brian trying to keep up.

_"I've been up all night/ I might sleep all day/ Get your dreams just right/ Then let 'em slip away/ I might sleep all day…./ Oh, it's too late to get high now…"_

Brian's hands on Justin's waist, they danced heedless of the people around them and then they realized that they weren't dancing alone. The Piper had cast his spell. _"Oh, it's too late to get high now…"_ A girl and her boyfriend had joined them and then a couple of girls giggled and began dancing too while a few more people looked on longingly. _"I said, baby, nah, nah, nah/ I said, baby, nah, nah, nah, it's too late…" In the end, eight of them danced as the song faded away, having shed their inhibitions, reveling in the freedom to enjoy the music, the night, and just being alive. "All I wanna do is get high./ Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah/ Oh, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, it's too late./ Oh…"_

Still laughing as they got to the hotel, they danced through the lobby and up to their room, no doubt scandalizing the staff. They could just imagine the people at the front desk saying to themselves, "Americans." But it didn't matter because it was late in the evening and there was champagne on its way up and they didn't have to get up early tomorrow because the museum was right across the street…

"Did you see them?" Justin asked of the other dancers as they burst through the door, kissing, laughing, heading for the bed, not sure if they'd make it.

"Yeah."

"I bet they'll never forget it," he said, sliding off his pants.

Brian caught him around the waist and kissed him. "Me neither."

And if either of them noticed the similarity of their words to the ones they'd spoken the night of the prom, they didn't mention it and it didn't mar the moment. They'd reclaimed some of the happiness of that night.

 _We were like children  
Laughing for hours   
The joy you gave me lives on and on.   
Cause I know you by heart._ 4 

The gentle touch of lips upon lips, a quick intake of breath, a kiss. A kiss to awaken sleeping royalty, to break enchantments, to seal promises. But the only thorny barrier he'd breached was his own heart, his own fears and doubts. And no slumbering damsel in distress had awaited him, but a beauty nonetheless who hadn't needed rescuing; in truth, it had been the savior who'd needed saving.

"I love you," he whispered before kissing Justin again.

"Brian…" It was all he could manage to say. They'd been kissing for what seemed like a hundred years. Lips swollen, eyes bright, limbs heavy, the air scented with sex even though they'd only been kissing.

"I love you," he said again before their lips met once more and Justin moaned into his mouth and clutched his back. Pulling away, Brian lay next to him, trying to catch his breath, to slow things down, but the sight of Justin's bee-stung lips drew him back and he leaned over and caught them between his own.

He cried out and returned the kiss, then turned aside his head to speak. "I… I…"

Brian slid his hand down his lover's body, knowing what he needed, what the teen wanted but couldn't find the words to ask for, entangled as he was in kisses. 

 

Like they had in the park, they danced together, joined so intimately that it was difficult to remember that they were two separate people instead of two parts of one whole. Brian, head bowed over Justin's chest, felt his lover stir inside him, felt a cry bubble up within his belly. Releasing it, he panted, rocked back and forth and cried out again. Justin was deep inside him, lodged against his prostate and each jabbing motion sent flares off inside his head until he was blinded. Sightless, he followed Justin's lead, tears streaming down his face. Justin had saved him and he didn't need to see where he was headed to know it was where he wanted to go.

_I see your sweet smile  
Shine through the darkness   
Its line is etched in my memory.   
So I'd know you by heart. _

Lying with his head on Justin's chest, listening to the beat of his heart, Brian felt as if he were hearing his own. Hand around his lover's slender torso, he held him gently, the teen more precious to him than anything else in the world. "I love you," he breathed against Justin's skin.

"I love you too," his partner replied, running his fingers over his lips and receiving a kiss.

Slowly, they drifted off to sleep, dreams entwined like thorny hedges, protecting them as they slept.

_I saw your sweet smile  
I heard your laughter   
You're still here beside me every day.   
Cause I know you by heart.   
Cause I know you by heart. _

Before departing on another day of sightseeing, they left their laundry and dry cleaning with the hotel staff. Brian only grumbled a little about the necessity of doing so since they hadn't brought an endless supply of clothes. Truthfully, the only people who'd ever know or notice would be themselves.

Crossing the street and walking around the corner to the main entrance, Justin paused at the bottom of the steps and exhaled noisily. "Whew. That took forever, I thought we'd never get here."

Brian walked forward and tugged on his shirt, pulling him onwards.

There was so much to see at the British Museum that they'd decided ahead of time to only look at the things they were really interested in. First up was the Queen of Sheba exhibition since it was a special show and neither one of them had any idea where Sheba was supposed to have been.

"Yemen?" Brian asked once they saw the title of the exhibit. "Where the fuck is Yemen?"

"Let me read the program," Justin told him and quickly scanned the first paragraph. "Somewhere near Saudi Arabia."

"Whatever."

Of course, as usual, Justin was most interested in the artwork, the different ways in which the Queen of Sheba's visit to see King Solomon had been depicted. He liked the painting by Poynter the best, especially Solomon's throne which featured twelve golden lions along the steps leading up to a seat beneath a canopy. Reading the program, which talked about a film with Yul Brynner as Solomon, Justin asked, "You ever see that?"

Brian shook his head. "But my mom watched The Ten Commandments every year and every year I wanted Ramses to win. Yul Brynner was so hot." He leaned in and whispered, "Besides, I think he and Moses had a thing going on." He moaned, "Moses, Moses, Moses," in imitation of Ramses' seductive tones.

Laughing, Justin waved him away. "You are going to get struck by lightning."

"Now I bet that's a fuckin orgasm you wouldn't forget."

They also visited the Museum's collection of Egyptian artifacts, the largest outside of Egypt.

"You mean they left them something when they finished looting the place?" Brian asked.

Walking around the various mummies on exhibit, Justin said, "Oded Fehr was pretty hot in The Mummy."

"Eminently fuckable," Brian pronounced.

They both giggled at a pottery wine jar with a mud stopper that looked more than a little phallic. "Ancient Egyptian butt plug," Justin said and they had to leave the room.

From that moment on, everything seemed to have a sexual connotation, especially the Shiva linga which actually were phallic symbols. They nearly split their sides when they read that during worship services, the linga were bathed in milk, yogurt and honey and adorned with flowers.

"Like ice cream," Justin said, reminding Brian of the time they'd fucked on the chaise lounge and he'd spread ice cream over Brian's dick and sucked him clean.

"Tasty."

Finally, they found a corner and sat down and just laughed until they'd gotten it out of their systems. "Maybe," Brian suggested, "we should go back to the room and fuck until lunch."

Justin shook his head. "Tonight."

So they managed to put a lid on their laughter long enough to finish their abbreviated tour of the Museum.

"It's cool," Justin said, "but way too big to do in a day." They'd been in there almost three hours and felt like they couldn't look at another thing. Their brains and eyes were on visual overload. "Let's go eat."

Brian had made lunch reservations at Tamarind, this Michelin star Indian restaurant in Mayfair, not too terribly far from Bond Street, their destination that afternoon. As with all of the other places they'd eaten, the meal was superb.

"I don't know why people complain about British food," Justin said.

"Because it used to suck," Brian replied. "We just came at a good time and we're lucky that we can afford to eat at all the best places. I can't imagine what it's like having to eat fish and chips at every other meal." Yeah, I do. Kinda like eating at the diner.

Justin, who was hoping to grab some before they left London, nodded and said nothing. As is they had fish curry and amazing pan-fried potatoes with mustard seeds and curry leaves which was pretty close and without a doubt a lot better than fish and chips.

As they headed back to the tube to go up to Bond Street, Justin said casually, "You know, since we're going to Milan and Paris what's the point in shopping at Prada in London?"

Brian inhaled, then exhaled slowly, and said wearily, knowing Justin had some other plan, "What?"

"We could go to Notting Hill instead."

"Fuckin movie."

"Come on," he pleaded. "We can have ice cream when we get back to the room tonight."

Growling a little, Brian relented. "Fine. But if I leave Europe without a new suit and a new pair of shoes…"

"Come on, Pookie."

Brian stopped in his tracks. "What!?"

"Nothing." He kept walking. Shit, that had just slipped out.

Catching up with Justin, Brian asked, "What did you just call me?"

Caught, Justin admitted shyly, "Pookie."

"Oh, no," Brian said, shaking his head. "No fucking way."

"I like it."

"Uh-uh. I do not do nicknames."

"I'm sorry, I have to put up with the Boy Wonder, Sunshine, Little Boy, Baby, and Pooh. It's a wonder anyone knows what my real name is."

"So?"

"So, you can be Pookie."

"Not if you want to live to see twenty." Discussion over, he strode ahead.

Justin's lips twisted in a grin. _We'll see._

Portobello Road was just as he'd imagined. Definitely a lot of upscale places but just enough funky spots to keep it interesting. There was this amazing record store that have everything. The clerk said that they would stock anyone's CD, no matter who it was. Justin picked up a couple of club mixes that no one back home would have. Continuing down the street, he spotted a fish and chips place. "Can I?"

"It's your funeral," Brian said, knowing that not much actually seemed to upset Justin's stomach or his appetite. Crazy-assed metabolism and an iron gut. Brian shook his head and went inside with the teen although he refused to buy anything for himself.

Paying for his order, Justin paused to douse the fish with vinegar and then went out into the street smiling, Brian trailing behind him and wondering if he'd ever get the stench of the store out of his nostrils. They had eaten in Michelin star restaurants and Justin acted as if the fish and chips were the best things he'd eaten in London.

They stopped in a tattoo studio and Justin mused over their gallery of designs. "What do you think about me getting a tattoo?"

"I think the nipple ring is enough," Brian said, vague images of Xavier disturbing him.

"You've got one," Justin pointed out.

"Yeah, well, we all make mistakes. You should learn from mine, not repeat 'em."

Stopping in at one of the coffee bars on the street (Not fucking Starbucks even though there was one), Brian got a grande mocha and dared Justin to say anything with fish and chips crumbs still clinging to his chin.

They browsed around this really hip urban clothing store called Griffin and Justin just had to have a pair of pale blue-checked jeans that he said he couldn't live without. Saying nothing, and thinking of his new Italian suit, Brian stood watching the street while Justin paid for his purchase.

Although they went in Books for Cooks, Justin didn't buy anything, saying he could find pretty good cook books at home. He did think it was cool that they had a test kitchen in the back and they cooked food from the books the store stocked. They had even published five tiny cookbooks of their favorite recipes. Knowing that he really wanted them, Brian bought them saying their new kitchen would have something unique in it.

"What new kitchen?" Justin asked.

"Hurry up," replied Brian.

Shopping done in Notting Hill, they caught the tube and got off on Bond Street. "Just to see," said Brian and, true to his word, he didn't buy anything, just window-shopped although Justin caught him looking longingly inside the Prada store.

"We'll be in Milan before you know it," he promised. 

 

It was almost six when they arrived back at the hotel. The staff had returned their clothes, neatly folded or hung on hangers which they quickly discarded. Having missed his work-out that morning, Brian decided to get in a quick half hour on the treadmill. For once, Justin didn't try to persuade him to do otherwise. When Brian voiced suspicion, Justin replied, "I haven't written in my journal in a long time." Curiosity still aroused, Brian departed.

True to his word, Justin did write in his journal. After making one quick phone call downstairs to the front desk and then another to the number they'd given him.

_London is fabulous. I can't imagine what it would be like to live in a city like this. The restaurants, the art. Although, if I lived here I probably wouldn't do half as much because it's different when you live somewhere. I can't explain it, I just know that's how it is. Xavier said the same thing about D.C._

He paused and wondered if he should strike that last part out but Brian had never read his journal, not once, so it was as if he'd only said it to himself.

_Things were going really great between me and Brian until I decided to buy a present for Nana Rose. It really upset him and I guess I should have known better but she didn't do anything and Brian actually talked to her at the show so I figured it was okay to get her something. It's not like I was buying something for Xavier. But he freaked out. Not like screaming and stuff but you could tell that he was really hurt. And then I got mad at him because it isn't fair that I get blamed for everything, that I can't do anything right. I just want us to be okay. Why is that so wrong?_

_Anyway, we worked things out. For now. But I don’t know for how long. We always seem to fuck things up somehow, without ever meaning to. It's a gift, I suppose. But we always seem to find a way to fix things too. I don’t know what I'd do if one day we couldn't. We almost didn't after Xavier. It still scares me, how close we came to losing everything. I never told Brian but I think that_

He hesitated to even write it down. He hadn't even admitted as much to Daphne although he was sure she'd known, had pieced it together from what he'd told her. Not wanting to but needing to, he continued to write.

_if he had killed himself, I would have too. I can't imagine my life without him. As angry as he makes me and as many times as he's hurt me, there's no one else I want to be with. I love him._

Justin closed the journal; there was nothing else to say. When Brian returned to the room a few moments later, he was still holding it.

Idly, he asked, "What do you write in that thing?" Shucked his gym shorts and jock.

"Don't you know?"

"If you want me to know something, you'll tell me," he replied and it was only what Justin had already known, that he'd never read the teen's journal.

"Things I do—"

"That oughta fill about a hundred of those things every week."

He stuck out his tongue. "Things about you…"

Brian groaned. "And here I was thinking I was so clever cause I never wrote anything down."

"That I love you," he said simply and Brian smiled softly and kissed him on his way to take a shower.

Tossing the journal on the night table, Justin followed. 

 

As the waiter showed them to their table and Brian informed him that they were having one of the set seven-course 'grazing' meals, Justin suddenly wished he hadn't had fish and chips that afternoon. Still, the portions were supposed to be smaller than normal to accommodate the number of courses. He could only not eat everything, where was the crime in that?

Not able to stomach eating veal, Justin opted for the rack of lamb and tried to put visions of curly-haired sheep frolicking in the fields out of his mind.

Even though the wood-paneled restaurant looked like a traditional British establishment, the air in the room was anything but stodgy. And the tables were set far enough apart that Brian and Justin could talk in private without fear of being overheard. Taking the teen's hand in his, Brian stroked his fingers. "So, did you enjoy London?"

"I love it." Despite the ever-present crowds of people and the fact that everything was grossly overpriced, he did. "I wish we could stay longer."

Brian smiled. "And you'll say the same thing about Italy and Spain and France."

"And it'll be true." He smiled. "But it doesn't matter, as long as we're together. We could be anywhere, even Pittsburgh."

"Food wouldn’t be this good in Pittsburgh."

"I wish Pittsburgh were more like London."

"If Pittsburgh were more like London, we would have never met," Brian pointed out quite reasonably.

"I think we would have. It was destiny."

Brian groaned. "You and your destiny crap. I knew I shouldn't have let you watch that fuckin film."

Serendipity, that's what they'd rented and watched one Friday night and Brian had never let him forget how bad it was. He entwined his fingers with Brian's. "What did you like best about London?"

He thought about it, then said, "Taking that bath together." He had felt so close to Justin, surrounded by silence, the only sounds the dripping water from the faucet and their breathing.

Glancing shyly up at Brian, Justin said, "Me too."

And Brian laughed. "We couldn't have done that at home."

Taking the opportunity the comment afforded him, Justin asked, "You're really thinking about selling the loft and getting a bigger place?"

Brian shrugged. "Maybe."

"When?"

"Next year probably. If I'm made partner." The waiter returned with their soup, cream of asparagus with smoked salmon and parmesan cheese, then poured the wine the sommelier had chosen to go with that course. As had been suggested, they'd given him a budget for wine and put themselves in his legendary hands.

"And if you're not?" Justin asked before taking a sip of his soup and forgetting what he'd asked. It was exquisite.

"Then we'll have to wait or hope that I get a bundle for the loft."

"We could always get a small house," Justin suggested, knowing that Brian probably had visions of some stately manor in his head when they didn't need anything that fancy.

"Which would only be a step up from the loft. There's no point in moving if we don't move someplace spectacular," he said, grinning, knowing what Justin was probably thinking, that Brian just wanted some showy place just because. But it'd be a good investment in addition to solving their space problem.

"I wish I could get a real job and help. But with school…" he began.

"Don't worry. With what it's probably going to cost, you'll be making mortgage payments on it long after I'm gone."

"Don't say that," Justin snapped.

"It was just a joke."

Where had that come from? Quietly, he finished his soup and drank the rest of his wine.

That Justin was angry, Brian had no doubt. It had come up so quickly, out of nowhere that it took him a moment to get his bearings. "Justin."

He looked up. "I didn't mean…"

"I know. It wasn't funny. I'm sorry." At that moment, breaking the tension, the waiter returned and cleared away their bowls and glasses in preparation for the next course.

Three courses later, having consumed tomato and crab open ravioli, roasted foie gras, and sea scallops, they began the main course: rack of lamb with tartlets of wild mushrooms, truffles, and onion puree. As with the other courses, the food was magnificent and the wine sublime. They were almost sorry they hadn't gone for the nine course meal instead. But there was still the cheese course to go and dessert. And the night wouldn't be over once they left the restaurant. 

 

Since they'd dumped their earlier plans to visit the Queen's Gallery in Buckingham Palace, they rode the tube to Victoria station and took a walking tour of the area instead. Arm and arm they paused by the Royal Mews where the horses that pulled the royal carriages were stabled; sauntered by the gates of the palace and waved at the guards; walked past the Queen Victoria Memorial; and around the edge of Green Park up Queen's Walk until they were back at the Green Park station.

As they rode past the other stops on the line, they said a fond farewell to the places they'd explored: Picadilly Circus, Leicester Square, Covent Garden.

Coming out of the Russell Square station, they strolled around the Russell Square Gardens, making their way leisurely to the Montague.

"You know," Justin said, "I wouldn't mind having a flower garden."

"You'd work in it yourself?"

"Might be relaxing."

"Mmm," Brian replied, noncommittally.

Inside their room, they checked their papers and made sure they had all of their tax free VAT checks for the purchases they'd made so they could get them stamped by Customs before turning them in for a refund. Although they'd meant to mail their purchases from London, they figured it'd be just as easy to do from Italy. And they probably wouldn't take up much room in their suitcases. Of course, the real test would come tomorrow when everything went back inside.

Since they hadn't called them any of the previous nights, they rang up Joanie and Deb, talking to each of them only a few minutes and promising a longer call once they reached Rome. Joanie couldn’t wait to hear all about the Vatican. "And behave yourself," she told her son although she knew he probably wasn't paying any attention to her.

"I promise," he said and smiled and hung up. It felt good being able to talk to her again. As long as they didn't get too sweet about it. There was entirely too much sweetness around already. Looking over at Justin, wondering how late they'd be up making love, he heard someone at the door. Frowned. Who the fuck could that be? Since Justin was making no move towards answering the door, he snatched up his robe and tied it snugly about his waist. That was one lesson he'd learned in the Bahamas to Justin's great relief. And the hotel staff's. Opening the door, he was confronted with a man bearing a bouquet of fiery yellow and orange bi-colored roses.

"Hope you enjoy, sir."

"Thanks." He went to get his wallet to tip the guy but he'd already gone. Closing the door, he shrugged.

Justin sat up in bed. "Those are beautiful. What's the card say?"

Head cocked to the side, Brian replied, "As if you didn't know."

Denying nothing, Justin said, "Read it."

Lips curled in a tiny smile, Brian removed and opened the card. Read silently. Rolled his eyes and debated what to do. _To Pookie, with love, Pooh._ Turned towards the bed.

Justin crooked a finger at him.

 _What the fuck,_ he thought resignedly, _Pookie it was_. Brian set the flowers on the nightstand, then dropped onto the bed next to Justin. But. "If you ever tell anyone about Pookie, I'll never fuck you again," he threatened.

Sliding Brian's robe from his shoulders, the older man already shivering in anticipation, Justin nodded. Uh-huh. _Whatever…_

They lay arms and legs about one another, Justin's head in the hollow of Brian's throat. While Justin began to drift off, Brian's mind labored.

Although it would have been easier to say nothing, it'd been bothering him for a few days now, every since Michael had mentioned the possibility, skulking around the edge of his conscious thoughts, haunting him until, at last, he felt he had to say something. Moving apart from Justin, he propped himself up on one arm. "Justin?"

"Mmm?" came the fuzzy response.

He knew that if he were to say, "Nothing," there was a good chance Justin would fall asleep and not bother to pursue it but an even greater chance that he would not rest until he'd ferreted out the as yet unasked question. Still, it wasn't easy to continue. After a moment, he spoke. "If I had gone through with it... what would you have done?"

From a warm and tender moment, the mood shifted, instantly. Justin tensed, then tried to relax but couldn't. There was no pretending that he didn't know exactly what Brian was alluding to. Yet, he couldn't reply, not immediately. And, in that, Brian had his answer.

"Justin..."

He looked up at his lover. "But you didn't," he said, hoping that would be enough, knowing it wouldn't be. Although he'd admitted it in his journal, he didn't want to do so to Brian and that disturbed him because if he couldn't confide in Brian, what did that mean for their relationship?

"I didn't think," Brian confessed. "I just wanted it to stop. The dreams, the fear... And after I... After you were hurt, everything fell apart and I just wanted the pain to end and I..." He didn't want to say it. "I thought you'd be better off without me. But I didn't think that you'd do it too."

Indignant, he asked, "Why not? You didn't think I was strong enough? You could do it but not me?" But what the anger hid was the belief that Brian hadn't thought of him at all, hadn't cared what would happen to him. Only, he knew that wasn't true.

Brian grabbed Justin's wrist. "You're stronger than I am. Baby," he began, then paused, released Justin. "Baby, if I had thought for a moment that you would hurt yourself..." Brian took a breath. "I would never have--" He looked away, ashamed of having been weak, of having been so foolish.

Softly, Justin said, "I would have killed myself too," and Brian wrapped his arms around him and held him, afraid even now that he might lose the teen. "There's nothing for me without you."

Brian trembled, then steeled himself and peered into Justin's face. "I believe in you. More than I ever have in myself. More than I ever have in anyone. You give me hope, that there's something better in the world than tricking, and clubs, and drugs." Quietly, he confessed, "You almost make me believe that the world is a good place, and worth fighting for." They both knew the reference, Morgan Freeman's character in Seven says it at the end of the movie, and Brian smiled even though his eyes were shiny. "I want Gus to study you in school, I want to walk through a museum someday and see your stuff on the walls, go to your retrospective at the Met."

Justin, whose throat had gone tight, said, "That means you have to live too." There, there was the fear beneath it all, that Brian hadn't given up on the idea of dying, that it'd only been postponed. Worse, Justin had felt that everything he did wrong was just one more push, one more nudge.

"I plan to. A good long time." He added, to lighten the mood, "And never grow old."

Playing along, Justin told him, "I think you'd look distinguished with grey hair," and Brian made a sign against evil. "Besides, if you never grew old, what would people think?"

"That I had a portrait in the attic somewhere that was getting older for me," he answered. Like Dorian Grey. Settling down again, Brian laid his head upon Justin's chest and felt his lover's arms slide around his back. "I love you," he said, amazed that for a long time he'd refused to say it at all when now he couldn't say it enough. Afraid that by saying so, he was giving a part of himself away, not understanding that he was getting much more in return. He understood that now. And the words gave him strength, as much as they sheltered and protected Justin.

"I love you," the teenager replied. There was nothing else. 

 

Leaning out of the front door to pick up their complementary copy of The London Times, Brian came face-to-face with their next-door-neighbor, a fairly athletic-looking man in his early forties. Not bad. "Hey," he said, the first time they'd ever spoken although he'd seen the man around the hotel.

"You're quite energetic," he said with a grin. "I salute you, sir."

Confused, Brian frowned.

"You and your lover, you seem to get quite a workout most nights."

Laughing, Brian tipped his paper at him and retreated back inside.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Guy next door." He tossed the paper on the bed. "Seems he's heard us fucking."

Groaning, Justin asked, "Who hasn't?" He still couldn't speak to the building superintendent back home without blushing.

Pouring a cup of the coffee they'd made themselves, Brian said, "Think of it as spreading a little joy throughout the world, one fuck at a time. Goodwill ambassadors. That's us."

"Goodfuck ambassadors."

Brian laughed. Even better. 

 

They got to the airport hours before their flight was due to leave remembering the routine at Customs and, as before, the agents were very thorough and Justin grumbled as he tried to put their bags back into some semblance of order. That done, they picked up a couple of pastries from an airport shop, paying a king's ransom for them, and sat down at their gate to await the departure of their flight. As other flights arrived and people flooded into the airport to start their visits to London, they each felt a little sad. Still, they'd had their time here and now they were off on yet another adventure. There was no room, no need for regrets or sadness. Mouths sticky, they shared a buttery kiss.

"Ready for Italy?"

"Yep." He removed his travel guide for Rome from his backpack and started going through it. Again. So much to see and do: The Vatican, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon…

Smiling, Brian leaned back in his seat. Ah… la dolce vita. 

 

**Songs**

**1\. "Dive in the Pool," by Barry Harris.**

**2\. "Here I Am," by Jimmy Somerville.**

**3\. "Up All Night (Frankie Miller Goes to Hollywood)," by Adam F. Duritz, EMI-Blackwood Music Inc./Jones Falls Music BMI, 2002.**

**4\. "I Know You By Heart," by Diane Scanlon and Eve Nelson, PSO Limited (ASCAP)/Eve Songs Inc. (ASCAP)/Dwyer Hills Music (ASCAP).**


	8. Life Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The changes a year can bring.

Fingers wrapped around the door handle, Brian paused and wondered if he wished for it really really hard could he summon enough energy to get through the evening. Not attending the reception was not an option. Despite having done exceptionally well his first year at IFA, Justin was still a little apprehensive about being a sophomore. Brian guessed that it had more to do with facing Xavier again than anything else. Not that there was any danger of the two of them starting anything up again, because there wasn't. But they'd been friends, probably wanted to become friends again. The problem was how. Brian didn't think his presence would help any but Justin wanted him there and he hadn't been able to refuse. To complicate matters, in addition to Xavier, he had Trevor to contend with and he didn't relish the thought of running into the good professor after their last encounter. Hearing the hamer strike the statue as he stood outside the door, Brian had been surprised Trevor hadn't used it on him.

Knowing there was no point in putting it off any longer, he pulled open the door. Heard the shower running. Good boy. Smiling, he dropped his briefcase on the desk and started tugging at his tie as he headed for the bedroom. Just as he'd finally gotten free of his clothes and hung them up, the shower stopped. Shit. Missed his window of opportunity. Now he'd have to shower alone which was not as fun and definitely not as arousing. Resigning himself to it, he padded to the bathroom and waited for Justin to come out of the stall.

"Fuck!" the teen exclaimed upon exiting the shower and finding his lover standing next to him. He slumped against the frame, breathing hard. "I think I just lost ten years off my life."

"Hope not," Brian said, entering the vacated stall, "cause then I'd be fucking a nine-year-old and that's too goddamn young, even for me. I'm into chicken, not bitty." With that he closed the door and turned both knobs, eyes closed as the warm water pounded his skin.

Towel in hand, Justin dried himself then wrapped the bath sheet around his waist. His feet made soft slapping sounds as he entered the bedroom and went through his stuff to find something suitable to wear. After their pilgrimage to Milan, he had secretly sworn to try and dress better, no matter how small a budget he had. He still refused to let Brian buy his clothes outside of a gift or special occasion. But, looking in the closet, the only thing that grabbed his eye was the outfit Brian had gotten for him, the cream sweater and olive slacks. So be it. He'd just dropped his towel and reached for a pair of briefs when he felt Brian press up against him. "Mmm," he purred, Brian's pubes brushing over his buttocks.

"How much time do we have?" Brian asked, arms around his chest and waist.

"Not enough," replied Justin, looking up.

"Sure?"

"Positive. I want a niiice, looong, slooow fuck."

Brian concurred and released him with a kiss. "Later then."

"Definitely," he agreed, then pulled on his underwear.

Tearing his eyes away from Justin's perfect ass and seeing the outfit he'd chosen, Brian nodded his approval. "There's hope for you yet." 

 

Having dressed in record time, they had about twenty minutes to kill before they had to leave. Brian went into the bedroom and returned with one hand behind his back. "Close your eyes."

Justin smiled and complied with difficulty as curiosity was trying to get the best of him. "What is it?"

Gift in the palm of his hand, Brian said, "Open up." There was a slender, tastefully wrapped box sitting across his palm. "I was going to wait until Monday but what the hell. Why wait?"

Justin took the proffered gift and studied it. Used to the routine by now, Brian didn't rush him and before long the teen was carefully untying the silver ribbon and removing the dark blue paper. Wrapper put aside, Justin opened the box to reveal another box. A pencil case. Sterling silver with his initials incised in the cover. "Brian, it's beautiful."

"Well, I thought it'd be better than that plastic thing you've been dragging around," he said, receiving a very sweet kiss, one that only made him want more. But there was no time. "Let's go," he told Justin, "before I stop caring about how little time we have."

Sauntering on ahead, a slight sway to his walk, Justin offered a suggestion. "We could always fuck in the car." He waited by the opened door with a grin on his face.

Brian grabbed him and kissed him hard. Shut the door with a bang. "We'll just be late."

Justin unzipped his trousers and leaned back. 

 

They arrived just as the Dean was concluding his remarks, something for which they both could be grateful. Standing outside the doorway, out of sight, they waited until the polite applause began and made an unobtrusive-- they hoped-- and unnoticed entrance. Unfortunately, they failed on both accounts as Rennie spotted them from across the room and waved. Which attracted attention from several other interested parties, namely Xavier, who was standing next to her, and Trevor, who was parked by the Dean. None of their gazes met as their eyes shifted about. But Rennie was not having it. Xavier in tow, she met Brian and Justin at the door and beamed at the older man. "Hey, Brian."

Amused despite being a little uneasy, he smiled and pecked her on the lips. "Hey, Dark Girl. Back from terrorizing the West Coast?"

She touched her hair, done in bright purple dreadlocks. "Like it?"

"It's you."

The important exchange over, she spoke to Justin. "Boy Wonder."

"That's my name, don't wear it out," he told her and they hugged, glad to see one another, and Brian thought he'd never seen a stranger sight: Armani Exchange meets thrift-store goth. All the while he was aware of Xavier's eyes on them, not looking at him at all, but focused on Justin and Rennie as if by doing so he could make Brian disappear. Brian knew he was projecting but an anger came upon him so suddenly, it was like a summer thunderstorm, blowing up out of seemingly nowhere, and he knew he had to get away from the teenager.

He touched Justin's arm and, when he half-turned, said, "I'm getting a drink." Not waiting for Justin to offer to come with him, he left.

Worried, Justin, nevertheless, stayed put. Faced Rennie and Xavier again.

Softly, Xavier said, "Hey, J."

And just the sound of Xavier's voice half-whispering that endearment nearly sent Justin running after Brian but he realized it was just an automatic response and when he thought about it, he knew that he wasn't really affected by Xavier anymore. He and Brian had been through too much, had become even closer over the past few months and no one could ever threaten them again. Not if they remained vigilant. So there was no need to run. "Hey. You have a good summer?"

"Think so. Nana Rose was out of control."

"What else is new?" He laughed and Xavier did too. "I got something for her in London."

Rennie broke in. "We want a full report."

"I think I'm gonna put up a webpage. Brian took like a thousand pictures..."

"Is this going to be a porno site?"

"Shut up, Rennie." 

 

Brian watched them feel their way back to each other from across the room and was glad. Justin really needed friends his own age and with Daphne gone back to Princeton for the fall, he'd been worried that the teen would be alone again. Even though the three of them had talked at the last show before the summer, a lot of things could change in three months. God, he knew that better than anyone. Still, not all changes were bad. He rubbed the thumb of his right hand over his ring.

"I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

He didn't look around. "Then you should have stayed on your side of the room."

Coming into view, Trevor raised his empty glass and frowned. "Can't get through these things without a couple of drinks. Every half hour."

"Better be careful. Wouldn't want to do something stupid," Brian warned.

"Like fucking you?"

Brian started to walk away.

"Wait."

But he didn't. He kept walking until he found himself standing in front of the pieces last year's freshman class had exhibited in the end of the year show. He knew if he looked around he'd find Justin's triptych. So he didn't. He recognized the talent required to create such a piece, but the subject matter was still too painful to confront.

He stayed where he was, not seeing the abstract expressionist painting before him. Expecting Trevor at any moment. _Of all the dumb-assed…_ And yet it hadn't been the dumbest or most harmful thing he'd ever done. When was this fucking evening ever going to be over?

As there was no point in hiding out, he decided to rejoin the teens and went in search of them. 

 

One look in Brian's eyes and Justin knew it was time to go. They'd made an appearance, discharged their duty-- no one could accuse him of not participating in department fucntions-- but he was tired and Brian was definitely at the end of his tether. "Ready?" he asked although he knew the answer.

"You mind?" Justin shook his head and Brian kissed him.

Rennie sighed dramatically. "Fine. Leave me here with Xavier so he can drive me crazy talking about Trey." And then she froze. Fuck. Xavier hadn't said anything about him to Justin and she'd just spilled the beans. Fuck.

"Trey?" Justin asked. "Who's that?"

Wanting to grab his lover's arm and drag him away, Brian didn't.

Casually, Xavier replied, "This guy I met over the summer."

Equally casually, Justin said, "Oh." Paused. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys Monday in class. Later."

"Bye, Brian," waved Rennie. Next to her, Xavier stood in silence. _Oh hell._

The topic hadn't come up during the drive home or as they'd undressed and put away their clothes, but as they crawled into bed and cut off the lights, Justin's mind replayed Xavier's words, _"This guy I met over the summer."_

Brian could hear his brain churning. "Stop it."

Caught out, Justin still played dumb. "Stop what?"

Saying nothing more, Brian turned over and closed his eyes. There was no point in getting into it.

"I don't care about that," Justin told him.

Mind made up in a flash, Brian turned back to him. "Then why are Xavier and his summer fuck in bed with us?"

"They're not."

"Feels a little crowded to me."

"Brian--" But he couldn't finish his thought because Brian had closed the distance between them and was kissing him so deeply that he felt dizzy. When they parted, he stared at his partner with a dazed look on his face, then grabbed the back of Brian's head and returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm and force.

Before long he was on his back, legs wrapped around Brian's waist, hips pumping to meet the man's thrusts.

Later, he lay in Brian's arms and fairly purred in contentment, stroking the muscular forearm that crossed his chest.

 

 

"So, according to the baby books, Gus can have two other children at his second birthday party," explained Lindsay as they sat around the table having Sunday brunch.

"Fuck the books," Brian said, visions of even two other rugrats running around hyped up on cake making his head ache.

Mel said, "Believe me, none of us is looking forward to dealing with three yelling, screaming, cranky, crying brats, but if you, Michael, and Emmett agree to play nice, you can come anyway."

As Justin laughed, Brian groused, "Ha ha. How about I stay home altogether and you throw this bash by yourselves?"

"Bri!" exclaimed Lindsay. He'd promised to help.

"Don't worry," Justin assured her, "he'll be here. With a smile on his face."

"You gonna blow him in the car?" Mel asked.

"Mel!" Lindsay again. She covered her eyes. Gus was going to be foulest-talking tot on the playground thanks to Melanie and Brian.

"Well, if the guest room is free..." began Justin and both he and Brian laughed remembering Gus' first birthday party.

"Please don't," begged Lindz. "We want your mom to be around for Gus' third birthday party," and she and Mel laughed as well, remembering Joanie's face as she came tearing down the stairs. God only knows what she'd seen.

Gus tottered in from the livingroom dragging Beh and pulled Brian's shirttail. "Dada." Brian pretended not to hear or feel him. "Dada," the baby said again and was again ignored. So he yanked on Brian's shirt and yelled, "Dada!"

The adults cracked up, cause that was so like Brian as to leave little doubt whose son Gus was-- if the resemblance wasn't enough to convince a skeptic.

Brian picked up Gus and Beh. "What is it, Sonny Boy?"

"Go car."

"You want to go riding in the car?" Lindsay had instructed them all to use complete sentences with the baby to help his language development although Brian thought he talked well enough to get his needs met.

"Yeah."

"Beh too?" Gus nodded. "Can Pooh come too?" Gus shook his head. "Pooh can't come?" Again Gus shook his head and then he giggled.

"Pooh!"

"That's okay," Justin said, faking being sad. "I'll just stay home."

"No."

"Uh-huh, I'll just stay home and cry."

"No!" the baby repeated.

"Then I can come?" and Gus nodded and reached for him. Justin took him in his arms. "Thank you." Gus kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."

"Lu you," Gus said.

Brian threw down his napkin and stood. "Come on, lover boys." 

 

Riding with the top down, the wind blowing in their hair, the three men drove around the neighborhood, just a short trip cause the Munchers had plans for that afternoon and Brian had to go into the office for a couple of hours.

Justin turned around and smiled at Gus and Gus smiled too. He loved it when Justin smiled at him, almost as much as when his daddy picked him up and held him and called him Sonny Boy and kissed him. That was better than anything. Except maybe Beh. And then only cause Beh was there at night in his bed and his daddy wasn't. Sometimes he and Beh stayed with Dada and Pooh at their house and slept in their bed. His dada's bed was so big cause Dada was so big. Bigger than Pooh and Mommy and Mama. Gus loved it when his daddy picked him up cause he could see everything from up there. Just thinking about it made him happy and he clapped his hands and laughed.

"I wonder what he thinks about," Justin said, facing the front again.

"Probably pooping in his pants," replied Brian who hated changing diapers and couldn't wait until Gus was potty-trained.

Justin laughed. Brian hated changing diapers. Looking back at Gus again, he waved at the baby.

"Jusin!"

The teen's eyes widened. "Did you hear that?"

Brian grinned. "He called you Jusin."

"Say it agin, Gus. Say Justin."

"Jusin," Gus said and waved. "Hey."

"Fuck!" exclaimed the teen.

"Fu."

"That's your son all right."

Glancing at the baby in the rearview mirror, Brian admonished, "None of that, young man, or your mom'll have my ass in a sling. And not in a good way," he added. 

 

That evening, having gone into the office and returned home hungrier than ever, Brian, like the baby, called Justin's name. Legs spread open, Justin lying between them, he cupped the back of his partner's head and sighed. "Justin..." Inhaled deeply and floated on a haze of pleasure. He moaned as Justin's lips moved back up his shaft and formed a tight seal around the head of his cock, while his tongue slowly caressd the oozing tip. "Oh..." Justin pushed a finger up him and Brian cried out and gripped the sheets in his fists.

Freeing Brian's dick, Justin kissed his scrotum while moving his finger in and out of his hole. "You want it?" he asked, licking Brian's balls.

"Uh--" Brian squeezed his eyes shut.

"Want it?" Justin asked again, this time his teeth grazing his lover's flesh.

"Yes!"

"Say it," he demanded.

"Fuck me." Justin twisted his finger as he thrust it hard up Brian and the man moaned and tightened around him. "Fuck--" he began and stopped, gasping for breath as Justin's finger prodded his prostate. 

 

Bodies jerking about; chests heaving; voiced raised in cries, grunts, they wrestled on the bed, rough fucking, Justin having rolled Brian onto his belly, pounding him from behind. The teen came and pulled out, thrust three fingers up Brian's lube-slicked hole and plied his ass while Brian tugged on his cock, coming with a shout, spunk hanging off his fist. 

 

Unlike last year when their instrutors had given them a day or so to get adjusted, this semester they jumped right into the thick of it, both feet on the ground, running as fast as they could. By the time lunch had rolled around, Justin and his friends were exhausted. Which didn't make it the best time in the world to bring up Xavier's announcement on Friday but Justin didn't think he could wait any longer.

Over pizza and Cokes from the student union, they sat outside in the courtyard and talked.

"So what's the deal with you and Trey?"

Xavier had known Justin would bring that up again and he wanted to hit Rennie for opening her big mouth. Even more so, he wanted to hit himself for even telling her in the first place. "I don't know. I met him down at Howard. I was in the library doing some research--"

"You did work over the summer?" Justin asked in disbelief.

"We couldn't all go to Europe. I had to get mine second-hand." Justin looked away and Xavier felt shitty for saying what he had. "Look, I'm glad you got to go. You deserved it."

"You'll go someday."

Rennie sniffed. "I've been and it's highly overrated."

"You went with your parents," Justin said. "I went with Brian," and raised his eyebrows a couple of times comically. Rennie laughed and pushed him.

"Asshole."

"So what else about Trey?" he asked.

"So he was working there. He's a junior. Lit major. He's got dreads down his back." Xavier's face lit up. "He's amazing. Beautiful. Inside and out."

"You spend the whole summer together?"

"Pretty much." Xavier laughed. "Nana Rose loves him."

And Justin felt a pang of jealousy and then berated himself. Why should he feel jealous? Nana Rose wasn't his grandmother and Xavier wasn't his boyfriend. And even though Joanie didn't love him, she'd grown friendlier to him whch was saying a lot for the Irish Ice Princess. "You two serious?"

Xavier shrugged. "I guess. It's kind of hard since he's there and I'm here but we're gonna try. He's coming up for fall break."

"Cool," said Justin and concentrated on finishing his pizza.

Saying nothing more, Xavier watched him and wondered if he really meant what he'd said. 

 

As he sat alone in his studio-- Bledsoe having gone out for supplies-- Justin ruminated over Xavier's news. And he didn't mind, not really, not that Xavier had found someone. He was a good person, he deserved to be happy. But, somehow, it didn't seem fair to him that he and Brian had gone through hell, that he'd almost lost him, that they'd spent the entire summer working hard to repair their damaged relationship, and Xavier had spent the summer falling in love. Just thinking about that morning, coming down the steps to face Brian, to watch him live or die, made him want to scream. No matter how long he lived, he didn't think he'd ever forget how scared he'd been. Even now his heart rate increased.

Then he thought, But we're stronger now than we've ever been. Xavier has to wonder if he and Trey are going to last but I know that Brian and I are committed. For life. Wasn't that worth a few tears? 

 

That night, curled up against Brian's side, having had dinner with Mikey and Jeff, Justin knew that it had been worth it and he resolved to be happy for Xavier and let it trouble him no more. 

 

Cynthia met him at the door of his office, took his briefcase, and turned him towards the executive wing. "Ryder wants to see you." And from the look on her face, Brian guessed that she thought this was it: they were going to offer him a partnership.

"So do we move or stay put?"

"Move." She was sharing her space with Darren Johnson's assistant and she was tired of it. If Brian moved to the executive wing, she'd get an office of her own guarding the door to his inner sanctum. Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she sent him off. "Luck."

When he arrived at Ryder's office, Susan told him to go to the conference room. Before he opened the door, he took a deep breath and loosened his collar just a tad. Despite his confident words to Cynthia, he didn't know what to expect. They could be calling him in to tell him that he'd been promoted just short of a partnership. Which, despite the salary increase, would suck. He wanted that partnership, he deserved it. Having convinced himself, he was ready.

Going inside, he found the four partners waiting, seated casually around the table. He gave a small smile and mentally began going over the empty office spaces in the executive wing. 

 

She was waiting outside his door when he returned. "Well?"

"What do you think about the corner office? The one with all the windows?" he asked.

"You got it."

"Fuck yeah," he said as if there had never been any doubt in his mind. He was the best. End of story. 

 

Over an early lunch, Brian listened with only half his mind to Cynthia's grandiose plans for their new suite. The other half was debating going out to celebrate or staying in. Or maybe both. Go out and stay in a hotel. Only, they'd stayed in so many hotels over the summer that spending an evening at home seemed like a luxury. 

 

The afternoon shot with packing, he was able to steal away early and hit the grocery store. Got home around six and called Justin on his cell.

"Hello?"

"Any idea when you're getting home?"

"Couple of hours. Why?"

"Hurry up."

"Any particular reason?"

"Maybe."

"I could be there in an hour."

"Do it." Brian shut off the phone and got busy.

While it was true that he wasn't a great cook or even a good cook, he was a servicable cook and he could do justice to a tossed salad and a couple of steaks if he put his mind to it.

Following the advice of a most helpful sales associate at the supermarket, he'd picked up a bag of arugala, a red onion, one blood orange, and some blue cheese to make a simple salad; there were lemons and olive oil at home for the vinaigrette. The arugala washed and torn into bite-sized pieces, he peeled the orange and divided it into sections, sliced the onion, crumbled the blue cheese, threw all the salad stuff into a bowl, and mixed the vinaigrette. Then he set everything in the fridge and turned to the steaks.

First he made a simple rub of cracked pepper, sea salt, and freshly chopped rosemary. Seasoning the two inch and a half New York strip steaks, he set them aside and heated a couple tablespoons of olive oil in a heavy skillet. Since Justin couldn't abide bloody rare meat, Brian cooked the steaks for about five minutes on each side until they were medium-rare, then covered them and set them aside while he made a sauce from the pan drippings. It was the one thing he'd learned from Ramon other than how to make a killer gazpacho. He had just stirred in a tablespoon of butter when Justin came through the door.

He had smelled the steaks the moment he'd stepped off the elevator. Brian had cooked. It had to be a special occasion then because the most he did in a good week was to help Justin by chopping vegetables or by staying out of his way entirely.

Justin kissed Brian, tasting the tangy sauce on his tongue. "What's up?"

"Get the salad, would you?"

Which meant he'd tell him later. After a suitable build-up. Always the ad man. Smiling, Justin dished up the salads and poured the wine. Took a seat and waited for Brian to bring the steaks.

Halfway through dinner, Justin thought he would explode. Brian still hadn't told him his news and, from all indications, didn't intend to. Finally, Justin gave in to his curiosity. "Brian, what's going on?"

The man smiled ruefully around a piece of steak. He'd hoped to, at least, finish his food before the questions began. "I was offered a partnership."

It's what Brian had wanted for so long. Justin beamed. "Are you excited?"

"Are you?"

Confused, he replied, "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I'd be spending more time away from home: out-of-town trips, business dinners..."

"I thought when you made partner, you had other people do the work. People like you."

Boastfully, Brian said, "There are no people like me."

Justin shook his head. "Too much."

"If I accept, it'll mean doing my job now plus generating new business."

For the first time, Justin heard exactly what Brian was saying. "What do you mean, if you accept? Didn't you?"

"I told them I'd think about it." That was something he hadn't told Cynthia, that her plans for a move might be for naught because he had to talk to Justin first, had to be sure his partner understood what it meant.

"Brian..."

"Look, it's a big step and..." He looked down at his half-finished meal, then back up again. "But we come first. So if this isn't good for us, then it's a no-go."

"This is a huge opportunity for you. I can't tell you not to do it."

"Yeah, you can. You're the only one who can."

He could tell Brian was serious. So he thought about it, thought about what it would mean for them, all of the ramifications and he said, "I want you to take it."

"You sure?"

"I know it'll mean that we might spend less time together. But it's not like I'm gonna be home all the time waiting for you either. With classes and work and the studio..." He smiled. "That's the price you pay for being successful. We'll just have to make the most of the time we can spend together."

Brian didn't speak for a moment, then he said, "Right now, that sounds great. But what's gonna happen six weeks down the road when we haven't had dinner together for a week because of our schedules? Or you're stressed out over a project but we can't talk about it because I'm heading out-of-town on a business trip?"

"I'll understand."

Knowing he wouldn't get any better or more honest answer out of the teen, Brian took him at his word. "Okay. Then we do it."

Serious talk over, Justin went over and perched on Brian's lap. Kissed him. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah?" Brian asked playfully.

"Uh-huh." Justin nuzzled his neck, nipping his skin.

"Do me a favor?"

"Uh-huh." His neck really tasted good.

"Let me finish eating." He laughed and eased Justin from his lap. "I gotta keep my strength up."

Justin licked his lips from across the table. "I'm counting on it."

 

 

Debbie kissed him in the middle of his forehead leaving a bright red lip print on his skin which he immediately made Justin wipe off.

"So when's the party?" Em asked.

"What party?"

"The one to celebrate your promotion?"

Brian informed them that, "Justin and I had a private party last night."

"And he can still sit upright. Amazing."

Ted shuddered. "Information overload. That was way more than I ever wanted to know."

"We can at least have a drink at Woody's tonight," Mikey suggested.

"After all, it's not everyday you move up, two, three tax brackets," added Ted. "I'm gonna love doing your returns this year."

"Freak," said Michael.

"Totally pathetic," Brian commented.

"So, Woody's?" Michael asked.

"Whatever," he shrugged.

"And don't forget to let Mel and Lindsay know."

Justin promised, "I'll call them. He won't remember." 

 

After the guys had all left, Justin remained behind to work the morning shift. Debbie watched him bus tables for a while before saying anything to him. "You okay, Sunshine?"

"Yeah."

"You look a little down."

"Greasy plates depress me," he joked.

"Big step," she said.

"Busing tables?"

"Brian's promotion, smart ass." She popped him on the butt with her dish towel. "You okay with it?"

"He's worked really hard. He deserves a promotion."

"Which means he'll be working even harder."

Shades of his talk with Brian the night before came back to haunt him. Why was everyone so sure he couldn't handle Brian's partnership? "I told him I was happy for him and I am. We're not joined at the fucking hip."

She cut her eyes at him. "Watch it, buster."

"Sorry." He came clean. "I wish..."

"I know."

He consoled himself. "He won't always be as busy. Once he's proven himself, things will calm down."

 _And then you'll be the one hustling,_ she said to herself but she said nothing to him. He knew as well as she did. Better probably. 

So they were waiting for the guys to show up, having gotten a pre-drinks drink, sitting in a booth, nursing it between them, Brian replaying their conversation from the previous night in his head. Still not believing Justin. Not that the teen had lied, just that he didn't understand the situation fully. Then again, maybe Justin had been right, they would both be busy and maybe his promotion wouldn't cause the problems Brian had envisioned. Maybe he was worrying over nothing. He hoped so. They'd begun to gather positive momentum on their trip to Europe and he wanted to maintain it. But at what cost? His promotion? Could he give up the partnership if it came to that? It wouldn't. They'd find a way to balance work with their home life.

Home life. Brian grimaced and covered the expression with a sip from their glass. Two years ago, a home life meant lying down for a few hours between work and the clubs, no more. Now it meant responsibilities, to Justin, to Gus. It meant thinking about what was best for them instead of only figuring out how to get his needs met. It meant realizing that they did meet his needs, his two little boys.

Justin caught him smiling. "What?" He shook his head and the teenager didn't pursue it. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"Did I tell you I was proud of you?"

Brian pulled Justin closer. "Nope."

"Sure?"

"Positive."

"Well, I am."

"Sure?"

"Positive," and Justin kissed his lover, which was how Emmett and Ted found them, arms about one another and oblivious to their surroundings.

"Oh Jeez," moaned Ted. "Must you?"

They parted. "Think of it as continuing education. Yours," added Brian. He stuck out his tongue. "This is my tongue. This is my tongue in Justin's mouth," and he kissed his partner. "Any questions?"

Em raised his hand. "Can you get it all the way to the back?"

"Tickling the tonsils," Justin replied and again Ted groaned.

Mikey and Jeff arrived just as the girls did and the reporter ordered a round on drinks. "On me."

"Right here, sweetie?" asked Em. "It's a bit public but..."

"Back off, Scarlett," Michael warned.

"So," Mel inquired, "got your new office all picked out?"

"Corner office, windows on two sides. Sweet."

"Even Cynthia's got a window," added Justin.

"What you gonna do with all that extra money?" Ted asked, visions of smart investments dancing around his head.

"Let's see... new place--"

"New place?" repeated Lindz. "When?"

"Next year. Early," he replied to Justin's delight. "Depends on how fast I can sell the loft."

"I'm surprised the loft isn't on the historic gay registry. 'Most fucks ever recorded in a private residence,' " said Em.

"Isn't there a counter over the door?" Ted asked.

"Over 3,000 served," Michael laughed.

"Fuck all of you," growled Brian.

"What else?" asked Lindsay, returning to the original topic of conversation.

"Maybe a motor vehicle for a certain someone." Justin's eyes widened. "Used."

"I'll take it." Justin couldn't believe it. A car...

"What kind, baby?" Mel wanted to know.

"Jeep. Cherokee." He'd had it picked out for a long time now.

Em frowned. "Not a very sexy car."

Justin explained. "It's got room for my artwork, the groceries, and Gus."

Michael understood. "A family car. I wanna be there when the two of you show up at a PTA meeting."

"That'll never fuckin happen," Brian assured them.

Lindsay asked, "Aren't you concerned about Gus' education?"

"Yeah. His sex education."

"He's your kid," said Michael, "I'm sure he'll be way ahead of the curve." 

 

Driving home, Justin reached over and laid his hand on Brian's thigh. "You're really going to buy me a car?"

"Can't keep sharing this one."

Justin beamed. "Dark blue." Then it hit him. "What about you?"

"I've got this."

"But it's a company car."

"And I'm part owner of the company now."

"You could buy a Porsche or a Ferrarri." He could just see Brian zipping down the highway in some fast, low-slung, sex machine and he instantly regretted making the suggestion. Like Brian needed any help attracting unwanted attention.

But Brian surprised him. "I like the Jeep. It suits me." 

 

Unlike last year when he'd floundered, unsure what to do for the memorial show, on its anniversary Justin had a crystal clear picture in his mind. Which he refused to share with anyone, not even his partner. Used to the ways of artists from his friendship with Lindsay, Brian didn't pester him. After all, he'd see it soon enough. Of course, going to the show meant seeing Xavier and Trevor again, something he was anxious to avoid. Being in the same room with the teen again at the Art Department reception had been a trial, one he was not eager to repeat. But he had to go to the anniversary show, there was no question of not attending. The only questions that remained were 1) How would he get through an entire evening having to make nice with Xavier and Trevor? and 2) What would he wear? And maybe a third question: Would his mom come?

She and Justin had been getting along relatively well. Truthfully, they hadn't really spent a great deal of time together as he and Justin had been gone for a month that summer but they seemed to do all right at the going away party Lindz had thrown. Maybe Joanie would consider coming. She had yet to see Justin's work outside of her visits to the loft when she'd blushed every time she saw the sketch Justin had done of Brian nude in bed. If she could see some of the ones they didn't display. . . Or his photographs of Justin.

Smiling at the memory of taking those photos, he made up his mind and reached for the phone, hoping he could catch Justin between classes. 

 

He heard them before he saw them: Brian and Gus talking in the doorway. "Hey!" he called out from the kitchen and heard the baby answer.

"Jusin!"

Then the patter of little feet and a pair of bright hazel eyes looked up at him. He picked up the toddler and exchanged kisses. "Hey, Gus."

"Hey." And then his attention was drawn to the steaming pot and the aluminum covered pan on the stove. "What dat?"

"Dinner."

Brian returned from putting away Gus' stuff and hanging up his leather jacket. "Brisket."

"You sure she'll like it?"

"She'll love it. Isn't that right, Gus?" and he took the little boy and carried him to the livingroom and put in the tape Lindsay had sent with him. "What the fuck?" he said when the program began and a freaky-looking little girl named Wimzie appeared. "Wimzie's House?"

"Wize," said Gus and he clapped, loving it.

"She's half bird, half dragon," Justin explained.

"O-kay." He stood looking at the show for a few moments. "Need any help?"

"Nope." Justin came up behind him and waited for his kiss which Brian bestowed upon him forthwith. "Everything's done."

Brian inhaled deeply. He loved Justin's brisket. "Mmm. . ."

"You don't think it's too spicy do you? For your mom?"

"My mom thinks ketchup is spicy."

"I left out half the chilies."

Gus shouted, "Dada!" and pointed to the screen where Whimzie and a baby dragon were talking.

"Her brother," said Justin.

"So what about Sonny Boy?"

"Turkey frank and peas."

"Yum," said Brian without much enthusiasm.

"To him, yeah." Brian lifted Justin's arm and checked his watch. "She'll be here soon," he reassured him.

"Maybe we should have invited your mom too."

"Nope. This is good. Just the four of us. So we can talk." 

 

Fortunately, Joanie didn't arrive until after Gus' tape was over cause Brian had foreseen a major hissy fit coming on if he was interrupted.

Coming in slowly, she looked around cautiously as she was wont to do, and Brian and Justin suppressed their laughter. As if they'd have dildos hanging from the ceiling or something. They were clean and neatly arranged in the toy box where they belonged.

Then Gus came running. "Nana!" and she grabbed him and forgot to be nervous or uncomfortable. He'd been right to go and get the baby. They might actually manage to have a pleasant family dinner. Something they'd rarely had while he was growing up.

Although a lot of their time was devoted to Gus and his antics, they did manage to carry on an adult conversation.

Joanie was telling them how lonely it got around the house even with her church activities and with Claire and her two boys dropping in, her not-so-subtle hint to Brian that he should visit more and that he should go see his sister.

"You need a hobby," he told her.

"Or maybe a job," suggested Justin. "What did you do before you got married?"

"Went to high school. I've never worked."

"Oh." Justin looked to Brian to see if he'd goofed.

"It's never too late to start," Brian said.

"And do what?" she asked, genuinely baffled.

Justin asked, "What do you like to do?"

Brian bit his tongue. She liked to drink. All the Kinneys did.

"I used to like to sew. But my eyesight's not as sharp as it once was."

"What else?" Justin turned as Gus presented him with a piece of hot dog. He'd cut them into bite-sized bits. "No, thank you. You eat it." So Gus did, chewing with satisfaction.

"You were good at decorating the tree," Brian said. "Maybe you could be a Christmas tree decorator. Only have to work one season of the year," he laughed but Justin's eyes lit up.

"You could be a designer. Do displays and stuff for department stores and special occasions. Weddings. Commercials." Brian gave Justin a look. Oh no, it seemed to say.

"I wouldn't even know how to go about doing that."

"But you think you'd like it?"

She touched the nape of her neck and smiled faintly. "Maybe."

Justin glanced at Brian. Waited.

He sighed. "You'd need a portfolio."

"What's that?"

"Samples of your work. Pictures." He took a deep breath. "You do the sample displays and I'll take the pictures. And if they're good, I'll put out the word."

Joanie's eyes glistened and she speared a last piece of brisket from her plate. "Did you cook, Justin?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's delicious." 

 

Refraining from kissing the teen, Joanie did hug Justin as she left and thanked him for a lovely dinner.

"I helped," Brian reminded her. "I paid for the food."

Justin agreed and kissed him. "You're a very good helper." And he noticed that Joanie didn't flinch. Well. . . 

 

Gus put down, the two partners cleaned up, then snuggled on the couch, an Andres Segovia CD playing softly, the delicate notes of classical Spanish guitar floating in the air.

"So, what do you think?"

"That you're a genius."

"True."

"And that you're a good son to help your mom out."

"Wasn't my suggestion," he reminded Justin.

The teen smiled ruefully. "You don’t mind, do you?"

"I'll think of a suitable punishment later."

Justin pecked him on the lips, the quick kiss lengthening. "How about right now?"

"Gus is in our bed."

"Who needs a bed?"

Who indeed? So, with a brief trip into the bedroom to get a few necessary items, they made love on the couch, smothering their cries with succulent kisses 

 

After their late entrance to the reception the two men decided to show up on time for the 9/11 memorial exhibition, a resolution greatly aided by the fact that Justin's stomach was slightly upset which meant no fooling around. Nothing Brian said or did could calm his nerves, however, so the man gave up and hoped the audience reaction was kind. He didn't think Justin could take any negative criticism at this point.

The moment they walked into the exhibition space, Brian knew they were in trouble. There, with Xavier, was a young man who could only have been Trey. Justin's related description, gotten second-hand from Xavier, had been accurate down to the last dreadlock. He was beautiful and the two of them made a magnificent pair. Brian looked down at Justin to gauge his reaction and saw something disturbing in his face: jealousy and anger and he had to pretend that he didn't see Justin's response in order to keep the delicate peace. So, lightly, he said, "Looks like Xavier's summer fuck is here."

"Obviously he's more than that."

"So he'll be an autumn fuck too. Who cares? Long as Xavier stays out of our hair," and with those words he betrayed himself and alerted Justin to the fact that Brian wasn't pleased with him either.

"Brian. . . I'm sorry." He faced his lover so that Brian could see the truth in his eyes as well as hear it in his voice. "I don't care about Xavier and Trey."

"Then what is it?"

"It's that. . . " He paused, then tried to put it into words. "It's like nothing ever happened. It's like all of that shit we went through didn't phase him at all. He just went home for the summer and found the love of his life."

"So?"

"You almost died."

"But I didn't. We're here together. We went on a fuckin' fabulous trip this summer and had the time of our lives. So what if Xavier is happy? Let him be happy." And then, although he couldn’t have said where he found the charity that allowed him to say so, he added, "Besides, he didn't have it easy either, Baby. He loved you. Probably still loves you. Probably always will."

Justin digested his words. "I don't deserve you."

"Well, I'm used to you now so. . ."

"Shut up." Crisis averted, he waved at Xavier and the teen waved back, relief spread across his features. After the briefest of hesitations, Justin walked towards them, Brian at his side. "Hey."

"J." Lift of his head. "Brian." Didn't wait for an acknowledgement. "This is Trey. Trey, Justin and Brian."

Having given Justin the once-over, Trey looked at Brian and nodded, had the gesture returned with a wry twist of Brian's lips.

"I'm thirsty," Brian announced.

Justin immediately took advantage of the opening to say, "See you guys later." That was enough for one function. Wouldn't want to overdo it.

"Later, J."

Walking away, Justin moved closer to Brian and slipped his hand in his . "I love you," he said without looking up at his partner, the feel of Brian's ring against his fingers reassuring.

"You should. I'm fucking fantastic."

Justin bumped against him and laughed but he didn't disagree. 

 

"So," Em said as he sauntered over to Brian and Justin, Ted in his wake, "who's the hottie with Xavier?"

"His boyfriend," replied Justin. "Trey."

"Tray, huh? I'd like to get him in an upright position."

Shaking his head, Ted explained, "It's Trey, T-R-E-Y."

"You spell it however you want, honey, it still means fuckalicious to me."

Mikey came with Vic and Deb as Jeff was arriving a little later with a camera crew to cover the show as part of a WPXI special about 9/11. Like they had last year, Lindsay and Mel brought Gus and prayed he wouldn't go itno a sing-song as the Dean spoke. He especially loved to sing, "Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada," until Mel thought she'd go insane. But the baby remained quiet, complacent in his daddy's arms, while the Dean made a few introductory remarks, wanting, as he said, "To let the art speak for itself."

Promising Rennie that he'd go see her stuff as soon as he'd seen Justin's, Brian ordered the teen to guide them to his work.

"Okay, but- -"

"No buts, no introductions, no excuses," said Brian.

Jenn agreed. "Honey, it'll be wonderful. It always is."

"I know," he told him. "I just wanted you to be prepared. Come on." Ignoring the confused looks on their faces, he led the way to a partitioned section where they were confronted with three blank walls. "Wait."

First a single phrase appeared on one of the walls: 9/11. Faded. Then a shadow fell across the pristine surface. It looked like a pile of rubble, like buildings that had topped from on high. A second shadow replaced it, of a woman with her arms upraised. A third shadow, flames flickering. Then a fourth shadow, of a man carrying a woman. The fifth shadow, a plane approaching a building. The sixth, people looking up at the sky. Six scenes suggesting the horror and devastation wrought by the attacks on September 11th.

Music began to play, a mournful threnody of keyboards. He'd gotten the idea of using that piece while watching Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me with Brian and had gone out and bought the soundtrack the very next day. The music having started, the second wall came to life in concert with the first. A phrase appeared on it: 24/7, followed by a pile of multicolored building blocks which cast the first shadow on the other wall. The second picture was of a woman shouting in exultation, her hands raised in triumph. The third, a fire in a fireplace. A groom carrying his bride over the threshold. King Kong seated on the top of the World Trade Center while military jets approached. Kids in a courtyard staring up at sky writing that said: "J, I love you. B." Six scenes from everyday life. A final phrase appeared on both screens: Life, 2002.

Debbie voiced the opinion of them all in a hush, "Wow. Honey, that was something else."

No one else spoke for a while and then they quietly drifted away in pairs and groups, to think private thoughts until they were ready to share them. Soon only Brian and Justin remained.

The teen looked up at his older lover, mute, waiting for Brian to break the silence.

"Will you still love me," Brian asked, "when you're rich and famous?"

"Long as you've got your looks."

Brian waited until the piece had played through again to say, "This is new for you."

"Well, I'm taking a video class this semester so I thought I'd see if animation was something I'd really enjoy. I mean, I've always wanted to be a computer animator, but I've never really done it, you know?"

"And?"

"I love it." Then he told Brian how hard it had been to keep it from him when everyday he'd wanted to come home and share what he'd done, what he'd learnt. "This is pretty simple though. Just a few pictures, some stop-motion photography, but I can't wait to do more."

Brian held out his arm. "You wanna see what the also-rans managed to scrape up?"

"Brian!"

"Well?"

Laughing, Justin took his arm. 

 

Near the middle of the evening, they returned to his space to find a surprise there: Joanie sitting on the lone bench in the room, watching the two screens intently. They sat next to her, watching as a lone tear rolled down her face.

"You forget," she said softly, no preface, no preamble, " about the little things." After a moment, she continued. "I remember Brian coming home one day when he was just a little boy, he couldn’t have been more than six, in the first grade, I think. And he came into the kitchen and handed me this picture of a leaf. Children used to make them by coloring a real leaf and then- -"

"We'd put the leaf between two sheets of wax paper and the teacher would use a warm iron to heat the wax in the crayons and it would all stick together," Brian said, not believing he'd remembered that.

"It was purple. That used to be your favorite color," his mother said. "I hung it on the refrigerator. It was so beautiful."

And they sat in the darkened room with shadows and pictures flickering around them and reminisced about the past and Brian promised himself that he would not forget again. 

 

The first ones through the door when the store opened, Brian and Justin hoped to get their shopping done before the hordes arrived and, more importantly, before the hordes' children. Why parents brought their kids to toy stores escaped Brian entirely. Didn't parents realize that toy companies hired corps of marketing experts whose sole purpose in life was to sell your kid (a person with no income but with the lung capacity of a Metropolitan opera diva) some piece of worthless junk? It amazed him, it really did, that parents could be so gullible. Besides, if the kids came, the parents couldn't play.

People who knew him wouldn't have believed it, that Brian Kinney was in a toy store playing with his teenaged partner: grabbing pump action water guns from the shelves and staging mock wars in the aisles; pretending to be He-Man and Skeletor, battling for the future of Eternia; even having tea with the Powerpuff Girls and Mojo Jojo.

Brian said, doing his best impersonation, "I am Mojo Jojo. I do not want tea. Tea, I do not want."

And Justin pretended to be Buttercup and forced Mojo to drink the imaginary tea. Secretly, Brian admired Buttercup.

An hour later they still hadn't gotten Gus anything but they'd picked up a Harry Potter Nimbus 2000 for themselves. It was a play broom which made sounds and vibrated. The latter quality had been extolled on Amazon.com's website as bringing its users hours of fun. A lady stopped and examined one too. "For your little boy?" she asked and Brian grinned, looking at Justin and thought of the hours of fun he and Bountiful Bottom would have with it.

"Uh-huh."

Finally, after going down most of the aisles, Brian found it. A bright red and yellow convertible with a handle in the back that parents could use to guide their tots while the toddlers powered the vehicle with their feet. It even had room for Beh. The baby would love it.

Still, he looked longingly at the baby Jeep. Read wistfully the age recommendations: three and above. "Not yet," he promised.

As usual he and Justin ended up leaving the store with more than the required and requested one toy. Plus they stopped by the Discovery Zone and got him some intellectually stimulating but fun games and activities suitable for two-year-olds.

"I can't believe Gus is two," Justin said over lunch at their favorite Italian restaurant. It served Tuscan-style food and reminded them of their time in Florence.

"We've known each other for two years."

"Seems longer," Justin said and Brian raised a brow.

"Really?"

"I mean, so much has happened, it seems like it should have taken longer."

"Hard living."

Justin glanced at Brian out of the corner of his eye. "Be our one year anniversary in three months or so."

"Yep." Took a sip of wine. "Do something special?" he asked and Justin shrugged. "O-kay. You think about it," Brian suggested, "and let me know. Within reason."

"I thought you were a high-powered executive now. Partner in a prestigious public relations firm. Corner office, big salary- -"

"Within reason," he reiterated. "We'll be looking at a mortgage soon."

Justin's heart rate increased. "How soon?"

"As soon as things at work settle down and I can concentrate on something other than work. Speaking of which. . . " He checked Justin's watch. "I need to go in this afternoon."

"Brian. . ."

"Just for a couple of hours."

"Fine. I need to go to the studio anyway. Project due in a week and I've got major work to do on it." Which wasn't a complete lie. The project was due soon but he was already four-fifths of the way done. All that was left was a little touch-up work. 

 

Only once he was at the office all he did was think about Justin for the first few minutes. Walking away from the Jeep as Justin waved goodbye, he had very nearly turned around and gone back.

But he did have work to do. Which wasn't getting done if he was sitting there thinking about his partner. And the sooner he finished, the sooner he could call Justin and they could go home. As he looked down to focus on the papers in front of him, he glanced a photo on his desk, the one he'd taken of them on the couch, Justin sitting before him, his arms around the teen. It still seemed unreal sometimes, how much his life had changed. A year ago, he and Justin were just taking their first hesitant steps towards being something more than lovers. Justin had just started school and was discovering new things, new people, and they were both trying desperately to figure out how to balance all of it. He smiled. Guess things hadn't changed that much in that regard.

He closed his eyes for a moment, smelling the delicious white bean and Swiss chard soup that they'd eaten at the restaurant, recalling similar fare that they'd had in a restaurant near the Uffizi. He couldn't wait to go back to Europe. Next time they wanted to go to Greece, Austria, and Germany. Maybe next year, for the Christmas holidays, they could go. Spend their anniversary in some swank hotel in Vienna or Salzburg.

None of which was going to help him get his work done any sooner. So, thrusting all thoughts of Justin, Europe, food, and anniversaries from his mind, he opened his folder and began to read hoping that, for once, Bob and Brad would astound him with their advertising genius.

Uh-huh. 

 

With very little left to do on his project, Justin wandered the halls in hopes that Xavier or Rennie or one of the guys on the Diversity Council was around to hang out with for an hour or so. That's how long he figured Brian would be able to take being at work on the weekend. He wished. Cause when Brian was focused on an account, he could literally lose track of time and spend hours on it without ever noticing. It used to make Justin angry, that Brian could block out the world, including him, and concentrate solely on work for two, three hours at a time, saying nothing to him, unaware, it seemed, of his presence. Sometimes he had felt as if he wasn't even there.

Peeking into Xavier's studio, he saw his friend puzzling over two pieces of his sculpture. Even now, after all that had happened between them, he admired Xavier as an artist, admired his dedication, his creativity, his mastery of the form even at such a young age. Professor Janson had said more than once that Xavier was an example of what applying yourself could accomplish. Xavier worked every day in his studio for a couple of hours even if he didn't have an assignment. He read about sculptors, about different techniques, different cultures; he was always learning. Once Xavier had told him that he was afraid of not being able to know everything that he needed to know.

Justin smiled and left him to his work. Went to look for Rennie. But she wasn't in her studio. Probably out with her feminist art group fomenting trouble. Not that they ever committed any serious offenses against the establishment, but they did like to write letters and draft petitions and hang banners with witty yet obfuscating slogans on them.

He guessed he was on his own then. Just as he was about to return to the studio, an idea struck him. Perfect. 

 

Gus was always happy to see Justin and always happy to go to the park. With the soft top on the Jeep down, he could fit the baby's car in the backseat next to Gus' car seat. And away they went.

With Justin walking behind him, Gus made a circuit of the playground, waving to strangers and babbling to Beh. Just like his Dada, Gus was a natural flirt. Finally, he ran out of steam and Justin pushed him over to a bench and parked the car. With Beh in his lap, Gus started to nod. A shadow fell across them. Justin looked up.

A woman stood there. "Your little brother?" she asked although Gus looked nothing like Justin.

"No. He's. . . my partner's son."

"He's adorable. Two?"

"End of the month."

"Well, enjoy them while they're cute. Cause they grow out of it," she said and turned and signaled two children maybe five or six. Then walked off.

Taking Gus out of the car, Justin pushed it back to the Jeep and loaded them up. Time to take the baby home. _"He's. . . my partner's son."_ The words stayed with him as he strapped Gus into his car seat. Not his child but Brian's. And Brian had given away his parental rights which meant legally he was no one, which meant what for Justin? That he was less than no one.

He'd just fastened his seat belt when his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hey. You ready?"

"I've got Gus. I was just taking him home."

"Keep him. We'll take him back after dinner."

"Can't." Mel and Lindz had been adamant that the baby be back before six so that they could take him with them when they went over to Mel's aunt's house. "He's having dinner with his mommies."

"Swing by and get me first. Least I can see him before we take him home."

Brian was waiting in the parking garage when he arrived. He hopped in the passenger's seat and leaned over to kiss his young lover. Craned his neck to look back at the sleeping baby.

By the time they got to the Munchers' place, Gus had awakened and fussed to get out of the car seat so that he could sit with his daddy but Brian refused to release him until they had arrived. While Justin took the car out of the Jeep, Brian freed the baby and suffered being slobbered over.

"Hey, Sonny Boy."

"Hey!"

"You and Justin have a good time in the park?" But the baby was too busy cozying up to him to answer. Brian dreaded handing him over to Lindz or Mel. Grand hissy fit on its way.

Justin walked behind the man and his son thinking that no matter how close he and Gus became, they would never be as close as the baby and his father and it saddened him. And then Gus looked up and over his daddy's shoulder and waved.

"Jusin."

And the teen smiled and moved closer and kissed Gus. Kissed Brian as the man turned to look at them both.

"Hey."

Justin stroked the nape of his neck. "Hey."

"What do you say we go home and. . ." and he curled the tip of his tongue.

"I say," and Justin kissed him again.

"Oh Christ," said Mel as she opened the door. "Give me Gus before you corrupt him."

Brian grinned at the baby. "Too late. Isn't that right, Sonny Boy?" And Gus gave him a last sloppy kiss and laughed. 

 

His meeting with the Xander, Inc. people had gone well and he was leaning back in his office chair admiring his view of downtown Pittsburgh. Okay, admiring was probably a bit strong. Wasting time was more like it. He was tempted to make a paper airplane and fly it out the window. Just as he reached for a sheet of paper, the phone rang, saving him. Cynthia. _She must be psychic_. "Yeah."

"Kenneth Harris on the line."

"Thanks." Waited until she'd switched him over. "Kenneth."

"Brian. How are you?"

"Good. You?"

"Can't complain."

"What can I do for you?"

"Need a favor."

"Shoot."

"I'm going to a conference, giving a presentation on Hyperion's corporate image and I'd like you to come along with me, provide your viewpoint, and talk about the ad campaign you put together for us."

"And cultivate some potential clients," added Brian. "Sounds good." _As long as I don't have to fight you off,_ he thought. "When is it?"

"That's the catch. It's this month."

"Tough but doable. What dates?" Got out his calendar. If it were later this week or early next week, he could do it. Take some juggling to do but...

"The twenty-seventh through the twenty-ninth."

Gus' birthday was on the 29th, his party was on the 28th. "That's a problem."

"Prior committment?"

"My son's birthday is that weekend."

"How old?"

"Two."

Kenneth gave a little laugh. "He won't remember."

I will. And Justin and Lindsay and Mel and everyone else who was there. They'd all remember how he ditched Gus' birthday. "I can't."

"Golden opportunity. Especially for a brand new junior partner."

Cynthia must have told him. "Kenneth--"

"Think about it, and let me know if I need to reserve a room for you. Course, push comes to shove, you could always bunk with me."

"Ah, yeah." He hung up and debated telling the other partners about the offer and decided he had to. Which meant they'd pressure him to go and then what? There was no way in hell he could miss Gus' party and birthday altogether. At least if he wanted to continue being the senior partner in Kinney and Taylor. The teen would never let him forget it. Even if he never brought it up again (fat chance), Brian knew he'd feel his disappointment year after year.

But what about his other partners? It was an opportunity to network, to take advantage of Kenneth's extensive contacts in the very lucrative world of biotechnology. How could they turn that down? 

 

"You can't turn this opportunity down," Ryder said in the privacy of his office. "It's just what you need to start out on the right foot."

"It's my kid's birthday, Marty. Any other time and I'd go in a second."

"Any other time and it wouldn't be this time."

"We could send someone else."

"Harris asked you. Besides, Hyperion is your baby, from the ground up. There is no one else." Ryder softened his approach. "Listen, I know it's tough but that's what being a partner means. We're counting on you."

 _And what does it mean to be someone else's life partner and to have a family that counts on you?_ Brian stood and left. 

"You've been quiet," Justin said over dinner.

"Eating."

"Then why's half your food still left on the plate?"

There was no point in putting it off. "Got a call from Kenneth Harris."

"And?"

"He wants me to go with him to a conference."

"Seperate rooms?"

"Funny."

"So what's wrong?"

"It's on Gus' birthday."

"Then you told him no." Justin stood and began clearing the table. No fucking way...

"Justin..."

He stopped. "You can't. Brian..."

"It's important."

"So's Gus' birthday."

"I know but--"

"But what? It's more important to go to a conference with Kenneth Harris?"

"I didn't say that! Justin, it's business."

"So that's how it's gonna be? Your friends and family come last?"

"I warned you, I told you it would be tough."

"Tough I can take but this is-- It's like we don't matter at all. We didn't even discuss it."

"Justin, you're not being fair."

"Fuck fairness! I don't have to be fair because it doesn't fucking matter, does it? Your mind's made up."

"This isn't getting us anywhere."

"You're right. It's not." Carrying the plates to the kitchen, he began cleaning them off. Brian went in to help him. "I don't need any help," he said coldly.

Angrily, Brian muttered, "Fuck this," and stormed off. 

 

It was the first time they'd gone to bed angry with one another since returning from Europe and it was disconcerting to lie side-by-side in uncomfortable silence.

Finally Brian spoke. "What do you want me to do?"

Justin didn't answer for a while. Then he said, "I don't care."

Tired, feeling trapped, Brian replied, "Fine."

Lying there, still awake, all Justin could think was that Trey had come all the way to Pitts from DC to be with Xavier and see his work, not certain if they were going to last beyond fall, and Brian was gong to miss his son's birthday. Xavier had a lover who lived in another fucking state and he saw more of him and talked to him more than he saw or talked to Brian and they shared the same living space. And the more he thought about it, the angrier he got, until the anger was all he could feel and it scared him. 

 

Lindsay looked up from the banner she was coloring. "You're not coming to the party?"

"Conference. Last minute thing. I couldn't get out of it," he said and Justin got up and went outside to play with Gus and Mel.

"Obviously, Justin doesn't agree," Lindsay said.

"Well, it's been two days now and he's said five words to me total."

"Sorry."

"I guess you're mad too."

"Disappointed but not mad." She laid her hand over his. "Bri, I know I can count on you and I know you'd be there if you could. Justin knows it too. He'll come around."

"He practically accused me of going just to be with Kenneth."

"He didn't mean it."

"It was all I could do not to mention Xavier."

"Oh, no." That would not have been a good idea.

"Yeah, my brain kicked in just in time. That would have been a major, fucking mistake." He laid his head down on his hands. Looked up at her. "What am I gonna do?"

"Be patient."

"Not one of my virtues." 

 

His suitcase and briefcase packed, Brian found Justin seated on the couch and reading; he didn't have class until later in the morning. "Should I take a cab or what?" Waited and got no response. "I guess I'll see you late Sunday night," he said softly.

The moment he was gone, Justin got up and went to the door. He wanted to run downstairs and hop in the Jeep and follow Brian's cab until he caught up with him, so he could apologize, so he could say goodbye, but he didn't. He just stood there staring at the cold, grey metal. 

 

It felt strange to be getting on an airplane without Justin. He kept turning to his side, thinking the teen would be there, and he wasn't. As the plane taxied to the runway, he actually listened to the flight attendant explain the safety precautions just to take his mind off of Justin. Having refused the breakfast service and the offer of a beverage, he fretted. Why the fuck had it been so hard for them to come to an agreement about this? Why had they behaved as they had? In a last ditch effort to think about something else, he pulled the in-flight magazine from the back of the seat in front of him and opened it, flipped through the pages aimlessly. And then he saw it.

A tribute to the victims of September 11th. And he shut his eyes until the feeling of vertigo passed. Christ. How many of those people had died without ever having had the chance to say goodbye to the people they loved? How many of them had argued with a spouse or friend or child before going to work that day or stepping onto an airplane? What words had they left unsaid? Or angrily said? Trembling, he took out his phone and dialed Justin's cell.

"Yeah?"

"It's me." Silence. "This was wrong."

"What?"

"Us, leaving things like this." He hoped no one else in First Class could hear his conversation, he didn't want to alarm anyone. "I shouldn't have left without us talking. You never know what might happen--"

"Brian."

He could tell Justin understood, that the implications of the situation had hit him too. He could hear the fear in the teenager's voice. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm okay. I swear. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm missing Gus' party and I'm sorry that I'm not there with you." And he heard Justin sniffling. "Baby... Baby, don't. Don't cry."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." He swallowed. "We just have to do better. Okay?"

Sniffle. "I promise. I love you."

"Me too. Call you tonight."

"When you get there."

"When I get there," he amended. "Later."

"Later."

The connection severed, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. 

 

Kenneth met him at the airport looking as dapper and handsome as ever, obviously pleased to see Brian and prepared to make reparations for any inconvenience he might have caused the ad exec. "Lunch, anywhere you want."

"It's up to you," replied Brian. "Hold on a sec." Getting out his cell he made good on his promise to call Justin. "Hey. Yeah, I'm here. No problems. Okay." Smiled. "Later." Shut down the phone. "So? Lunch."

"Everything okay with Justin?"

"Fine. I'm starving." 

 

They dined at some obviously exclusive restaurant but Brian paid little attention to his surroundings. If Justin were here with him, they would have both been soaking up every detail. Instead, he and Kenneth talked business. Although they'd exchanged notes over the past week and a half and collaboratively created a powerpoint presentation, they'd both been too busy to have more than brief conversations, so that at the end of lunch Brian would have been hard-pressed to say what he'd eaten.

"The opening ceremony's this afternoon and there's a dinner tonight. Couple of presentations today. It'll be good to go to those, get a sense of how boring they are. It'll boost your confidence."

Brian lifted a brow. "That seem like a problem to you? My confidence?"

Laughing, Kenneth agreed. "Not particularly. It's one of the reasons I like you so much."

To move them away from potentially dangerous territory, Brian added, "And because I don't waste your money."

"True." Kenneth studied the man across from him, very aware of Brian's tactics. As if he'd suddenly remembered something important, he raised his water glass. "A toast. To your partnership. Congratulations."

Brian did the same. "Thanks." They touched glasses and took a token sip.

"So, are you in charge of cultivating business in the gay community?"

Brian chuckled. "I don't think the firm's ready for the Rainbow Division. Unless all the accounts are as lucrative as yours."

"Possible."

"Just not probable." Thank you, Ted Schmidt. "Besides, I don't want to be pigeon-holed."

"They obviously think you're a whiz at client cultivation."

"Yeah, but it hasn't decreased my regular workload any. I'm still in there pitching ideas, supervising on mock-ups."

"The work never ends. I still do R&D even though I'm the fucking president and CEO. But," he answered Brian, "it's worth the perks."

"And those would be?" he asked in all seriousness.

"The money--"

"Which I don't have time to spend."

"New digs."

"The office is nice."

"No, I mean a new home."

"No time to go looking."

"Yet. Give yourself a few months to settle into the new position. And learn to delegate," he advised Brian. "It'll save you a lot of restless nights."

Brian snorted. "You've obviously never met Bob and Brad." Shook his head. "I'll manage somehow." Finished his water. "Or go crazy one." 

 

He and Kenneth took the elevator down to the lobby, having dressed for dinner, Brian looking quite delicious in a natty grey suit that brought out the green in his eyes, something that Kenneth didn't fail to notice. As they walked to the banquet hall, Brian caught Harris looking at him more than once and he wondered how long it would take before the man made a pass at him.

At least the speeches were short and the dinner was actually edible, something he had expected as biotechnology was a rich field and it stood to reason they could afford the best. Still, you never knew.

They shared their table up front with three other couples. Three hetero couples. As Harris leaned in to give Brian the low-down on each of the head honchos--one a woman--Brian surprised and impressed him by knowing who all of them were and who currently handled their advertising accounts. "I do my homework," Brian said with a wide grin.

"So, I suppose you knew all about me the first time we met?"

"Not everything," he confessed. Least not until Kenneth had opened the door and his gaydar had gone off.

"I try to keep a low profile."

"Works. So no one knows?"

"Some do. Enough, I suppose."

Dinner over, a band came out and began to play old standards. The couples left to dance.

Devilishly, Brian said, "You're not going to ask me to dance?"

Kenneth waved at the crowd. "Not exactly my scene."

"Maybe I'll go find a more willing partner," threatened Brian.

"You wouldn't." Brian stood and Kenneth caught his arm. "Jesus, you're fearless."

"Life is short." He held out his hand and suddenly he remembered how he and Justin had walked out onto a potentially hostile dance floor and he started to withdraw his offer but if there was one lesson that episode had driven home, it was the importance of standing up for yourself, no matter what.

Kenneth accepted the dare and they walked onto the floor and found a space all to themselves. Aware of the eyes that watched them, Kenneth was, at first, a little stiff but then he began to forget about them and to concentrate on his partner and he started to enjoy himself; more than that, the stares eventually fed his enjoyment and he laughed as they performed for the crowd. "You're something else," he told Brian.

"I know."

When they returned to the table, instead of being shunned, the other couples complimented them on their dancing and then the biotech people began to discuss business while the spouses played catch-up, having met at similiar functions before. Brian started to feel very much out of place. He missed Justin. But then he heard Kenneth say his name and he turned and was drawn into their conversation. 

 

Walking back to their rooms, Kenneth said suddenly, "Come work for me."

"What?"

"You're amazing. You had them eating out of your hand."

"Seduction's my specialty. That's why I went into advertising."

Thinking he was joking at first, Kenneth started to laugh and then he realized Brian was serious and that amused him even more. "If those women had any idea, they'd lock up their husbands tonight."

"I'm a virtuous man."

"They're not." He brushed against Brian by mistake and tried to ignore the throbbing in his temples.

Don't spoil this, Brian whispered silently to him. Go to your room and forget about me. They stopped at his door. "Night."

Kenneth paused before speaking. "Night." Moved on towards his room.

Brian opened the door and shut it quickly, not waiting to see if Kenneth had looked back or not. Checked the clock. It was too late to call Justin. He had work and the party tomorrow and needed his rest.

 

 

As he layed in bed, watching the sunlight fill the loft, Justin was acutely aware of being alone. He'd gone to bed alone last night, he'd go to bed alone tonight, and he'd get up alone in the morning. But Brian would be home tomorrow night and he wouldn't be alone anymore. Until the next business trip.

He couldn't believe how angry he'd been with Brian, with the firm, and especially with Kenneth. Although he'd reconciled with Brian, he was still angry with Harris because he couldn't believe the man's interest in Brian was purely business. He had an idea that Brian would probably have to fend off the biotech exec at some point in their trip. He smiled thinking of how very aware Brian was of Harris' interest in him. And while he wouldn't encourage it, Brian wouldn't do anything to lessen his appeal. He'd never appear looking less than his best, never turn off the charm, never stop being what he was: seductive. Beautiful eyes, luscious lips, and a sharp mind that was his sexiest feature. That was his lover, his partner. His. Harris had better back off.

Just thinking about Brian made him hard. God, he'd only been gone a day and it already felt like a fucking week and it felt like it was going to be another week until he was home. Keeping his hands on top of the covers, Justin took a few deep breaths. He could wait. 

 

Work had dragged on to the point where he was about to do some guy serious bodily harm with the Blue Plate Special because he'd asked for a bottle of ketchup. Coming to the rescue, Deb supplied the needed condiment, served the Blue Plate Special (taking it right from Justin's hands), and whisked the teen away from the scene of the potential (and highly probable) crime.

"When's he coming back again?" she asked and Justin winced.

"Sorry, Deb."

"Listen, go to the party this afternoon and have a great time and he'll be back before you know it."

"Not soon enough," he complained.

"So you jerk off another night. Big deal."

"I did not jerk off."

"Maybe you should," Debbie suggested. "Might sweeten your disposition." She laughed and went to pick up an order. 

 

But he couldn't. Having gone home to shower and change and grab Gus' presents, Justin started twice to touch himself and each time he stopped, wanting to feel Brian's hands on him and not his own.

Starved for affection, he quickly dressed and left the loft- - and temptation- - behind.

As he pulled into the Munchers' yard, he hoped there was still something left to do as he needed to keep busy, keep his mind off of Brian and how much he wanted him. Carrying the biggest present by itself, he rang the doorbell. Mel peeped through the window, then opened the door.

"Hey, baby. Jesus Christ, what the fuck is that?"

"Guess."

Her face darkened. "Not a baby Jeep," she said remembering Brian's threat last year.

"Not quite. I talked him out of that. Again."

"Good."

"But it is a car."

Mel groaned. "Good grief. He'll be unstoppable." Meaning Gus. "Bring it on in. Any more?"

"In the Jeep."

She'd expected it. No matter how many times they told Brian not to buy too much stuff for Gus, he invariably did anyway. Lindz explained that it was to make up for all the things he'd never gotten as a child. Which Mel understood. So usually they kept back a present or two and gave them to the baby later on. Which satisfied them all.

By the time Justin and Mel got in all the presents, Lindsay had come down with Gus who was still rubbing at his eyes, having just gotten up from his afternoon nap. "Look who's here," Lindsay told him. "Justin."

"Jusin," said Gus softly and reached for him.

"I still can't believe you got him to say that," Mel admitted.

The teen kissed the baby and received a drowsy kiss in return. "Hey, Gus. Happy birthday."

"Dada," he said and looked around.

"Dada's not here," Justin explained.

And Gus squirmed and demanded, "Dada."

Lindsay, sensing an impending hissy fit, tried to head it off. "Gus, remember? Remember Mommy told you Dada can't come today. Dada's not here." And the baby's lip began to tremble and he rubbed his eyes again. "Uh-oh." That was another thing he'd inherited from Brian- - his bad temper and proneness to having grand drama queen moments.

Sure enough, he started to cry. But instead of reaching for his Mommy or Mama, he held onto Justin, crying against his shoulder while the teenager tried to comfort him. "Shh, Dada'll be back. He'll be back and we'll come over to see you. Okay? Okay, Gus?" He kissed the baby. "Dada's gonna call you tomorrow. 'Kay?" Gus nodded his head. "Give Pooh a kiss," and the baby kissed him and laughed.

"Jusin!"

"Tra la la," Justin sang and the baby giggled and buried his face in the teen's neck, satisfied for the moment.

Lindsay kissed Justin too. "You're good at this."

"Works with Brian," he replied and Mel cackled and went to carry Gus' presents to the gifts table outside.

As the women had the party preparations well in hand, Justin's job was to keep Gus occupied until the guests arrived and the party commenced. So they played with Beh and Justin pushed them around on his old fire engine that Brian had bought him last year for his birthday. Boy would he be pleased this year. And next year, next year Brian was determined to get him a baby Jeep as the box had said, 'Three years and up.' Plus, he still had the Tonka truck that his dad had given to him. "For when he's older," Brian had said although Justin suspected it'd take Brian a few years just to get used to the idea of giving it away. But when he'd suggested that Brian buy Gus a new one and keep the old one for himself, he'd said, "What the fuck am I gonna do with a Tonka truck?"

"You and Gus can play together in the sand box," he'd replied and he'd run to escape Brian's mock wrath, surrendering after a brief chase and accepting his 'punishment' like a man.

Don't think about that, he ordered himself, feeling a tingling sensation in his crotch. God, he missed Brian. 

 

Two hours later he missed peace and quiet even more. Gus and his two-year-old guests were perfect angels, it was the older partygoers who were acting like maniacs. Mikey had brought his light sabers and he and Emmett staged Jedi duels for the amusement of all.

"I'm Luke Skywalker," Michael announced, "and you can be Darth Vader."

"But I want to be Princess Leia," countered Emmett.

"She's not a Jedi knight."

"That's discrimination."

"There are female Jedi knights, " Michael explained, "she just wasn't one of them."

"Then I can be one that was."

"But they didn't go over to the dark side."

"How do you know?"

Michael gave him a look. "Just do it."

"I don't wanna."

Ted shouldered Emmett aside and took the light saber from him. "Go over there and sit down. You can be Princess Leia and Michael can save you and I'll be Darth Vader. James Earl Jones was the coolest. 'Luke, I am your father,' " he said in his deepest voice. So he and Mikey fought and he said, "Luke, join me in the dark side and together we will rule the universe."

"You know," Emmett said, "I always thought that the dark side was much cooler than the good side of the Force. They had way better outfits. Like maybe the dark side of the Force was the gay side or something."

Vic said, "I can see that. Especially the way their light sabers extended and lit up. Oh yeah."

Deb cried, "Oh my God."

"Luke, join me in the dark side," offered Ted and Michael swooned.

"Yes, Daddy," he purred.

"Incest. It happens," said Em.

"Especially in Mississippi," joked Jeff who rescued 'Luke'. "Nobody uses a light saber on you except me," he explained.

Escaping the noise, Justin went inside the house and ran into Joanie who was just arriving. "They're out back," he told her.

"I could hear them from the street. I thought I'd wait a moment before I went out there." She smiled diffidently. "Takes a little getting used to."

"A little," he agreed.

"Something wrong?"

"I wish Brian was here."

"He's not?" she asked, surprised since she knew how important Gus was to him.

"Business trip," he explained.

"Least it's business," she said. "Jack… with Jack he was usually out with the boys. Leaving me to arrange and deal with everything. To make the excuses. After a while, I didn't have to. Brian stopped wanting to celebrate his birthday. He said parties were for kids."

"He loves parties now."

"He loves Gus. And you." Justin smiled and she was glad that she'd been able to do that. "I should go see that grandson of mine now." And she left him.

But he wasn't quite ready to return to the party. Instead he wandered upstairs until he found himself in the guestroom. He went inside and shut the door. Fell back upon the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Remembering

_Brian's hand down the front of his jeans, squeezing his cock and balls as they kissed._

He wondered how far they'd gotten that day before Joanie had walked in on them. They hadn't noticed a thing, had been so intent on fucking that her entrance and exit had gone unnoticed.

Brian had torn open his jeans and gobbled up his cock. He could still feel his lips around his shaft, his tongue encircling the head, teasing him, exciting him beyond tolerance.

Moaning softly, he cupped his groin and squeezed. His legs fell open and he began to fondle himself through the denim. His cock thickened and stiffened and he unzipped his jeans and pulled it out of his briefs, pushing them down in the front just enough to get a hold of his meat. Spitting on his palm, he jacked the shaft slowly, caressing the head at the end of each stroke, his thumb rubbing over the tip.

Hot. It was so warm in the room. Still pulling on his dick, he pushed his tee-shirt up with his free hand and tugged on his nipples until they were hard as well. He worked his jeans and briefs down beneath his buttocks and lay bare-assed against the comforter, imagining how he must have looked, sprawled on the bed, stroking his erection. But he didn't care. He sighed and used both hands on his hungry cock.

Hearing a noise, Em stopped in the hallway. The Boy Wonder had vanished and he'd taken it upon himself to go in search of him. He knew how much Justin missed Brian and thought they should make a concerted effort to cheer him up. Not sure if he would catch Justin crying, Em decided to wait. And listen.

"Mmmm…"

Emmett's curiosity was peaked. It didn't sound as if Justin was crying. He knelt down and placed his ear to the door and the door opened a little. Justin hadn't entirely pulled it close. Shifting position, Emmett peeked through the crack and saw Justin lying on the bed masturbating. About to return downstairs, Em paused. Although he wasn't into chickens at all, he could see why Brian had lusted after Justin. With his plump buttocks ground into the comforter, slender thighs opened, lips parted, eyes shut, and his thick cock sprouting from his fist, the teen presented a very fetching picture. His nipple ring glinted in the sunlight. Fascinated despite knowing better, Emmett watched as Justin convulsed and cum flew from the tip of his dick to land on his belly and chest. As the teen slumped to the bed, a last bit of spooge flowed over the head of his cock and hung from the edge like an icicle.

Justin rubbed his swollen genitals as he got his breath back. That had felt good.

Justin having come, Em got to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom for a wanking session of his own. 

 

As usual Brian's gift was Gus' favorite. He could barely wait while his mommies removed the car from the box, he climbed in with Beh, thrust his feet through the holes in the bottom, and off they went, Justin walking behind him with one hand on the parent handle in case the baby's motor skills proved deficient. But Gus was a natural and he tooled around the back yard like a pro while the other babies looked on mesmerized.

"Maybe he's going to be a race car driver," Michael suggested.

"Oh no," objected Joanie, "too dangerous," just imagining Gus speeding around a race track at high speed.

"He's Brian's son," Vic reminded them, "danger's his middle name."

"I thought it was Abraham," said Em, still a little dizzy from his adventures in voyeurism and if Justin noticed anything weird about the way Emmett was looking at him, he didn't say anything. 

 

When everyone else had gone and Justin had finished helping them clean up, the women asked him if he'd like to stay the night and he was tempted but he refused in the end. He liked smelling Brian's scent on the pillows and sheets as he slept; even if he did sleep alone, it was comforting. So he kissed Gus goodbye and went home to wait for Brian's call. 

 

The phone never rang. 

 

Their presentation came at the end of a very long and exhausting day but the two men worked in concert as if they'd been partners for years, each performing his part seemingly effortlessly. Then came the questions which they fielded with professionalism and humor from the very first to the very last. Afterwards, they accepted an invitation to dinner from a few of Kenneth's closest acquaintances and Brian knew that they'd ensnared them.

The dinner finally broke up around eleven and Kenneth and Brian returned to the hotel still buzzed from the afternoon and the positive response to their presentation. Brian had, at least, six people very interested in following up with him once he returned to Pitts, news the partners would be glad to hear. Even if only one or two signed with them, the trip would have been worth it.

Still laughing over a joke one of the guys had told at dinner, they came to Brian's door before they knew it.

Feeling that he owed it to Harris, Brian said, "Thanks for inviting me. I know you didn't have to."

"But I did," Kenneth replied, and he grabbed Brian and kissed him hard. He'd been wanting to do that all evening and he couldn’t deny the impulse any longer. Touching those luscious raspberry lips in reality felt better than anything he could have dreamt. He pulled Brian closer and pressed harder against him. Opened his mouth and drew Brian's lips between his own.

It had taken him off-guard although he should have known, should have expected it and, for a moment, he forgot about everything else and just enjoyed kissing Kenneth. It had been a week and a half since he and Justin had been together, the teen's anger had been that great, and he was starved for the touch of another man's body against his own. But he couldn’t forget that he had a partner, not for long, and he pulled away and fumbled for his key. "No," he mumbled as Kenneth reached for him and he stepped through the door, Harris behind him. He turned. "No. I can't."

"Brian- -"

"I said no!" The vehemence of his refusal shocked them both. "Just go. Please."

Kenneth held out his hands. "All right. I'll go."

As soon as the door shut, Brian sat on the edge of his bed and covered his face. Because he had wanted Kenneth and he shouldn't have. He had Justin. Only Justin was all the way across the fucking country and he was here and Kenneth had felt so good pressed against him- - He stripped and put on the pair of jeans he'd brought, slipped on the semi-sheer black sweater, and grabbed his leather coat.

He knew he was prone to foolishness so he didn't think about what he was doing, he didn't think on it, he just moved, just emptied his mind and walked out into the night. 

 

He had known where to go, he always knew. Could smell it: the scent of men, no matter where he was. And they always knew him. As soon as he walked through the door, they sensed him, and gathered around him, wanting him, hoping they'd be chosen.

Lying naked on a platform, he gave himself over to their care. A body stretched over his, head to groin, as they fed on one another; a second man squatting on the floor to eat out his ass; a third bent over the man above him, rimming him as well. He moaned around the cock in his mouth, thick, hard, wet with saliva and precum. The man rimming him stood up and put on a condom. Pushed inside him and he gasped even though his mouth was full. Then the cock slid from his mouth. Hung suspended over his face, dripping precum onto his cheeks and nose as the guy was fucked from behind. Every so often he'd reach up and pull it down, kiss or suck what he could of it while the two men continued to jostle above him, while the man between his legs continued to fuck him hard. His own cockhead lay in a puddle of precum. When he lifted it from his belly, a strand of clear liquid clung to the tip. He slowly stroked the shaft, moaning as the guy fucking him neared his orgasm. He was tearing up his hole. Jesus. Squeezing his muscles, he brought the guy off, was pumped hard two, three times. Pulling out of him, the man fastened his lips on Brian's cock and sucked him. Brian reached up and yanked on the cock above his face. Cum rained down on his head. Set off by the guy's ejaculation, the man behind came as well.

Only Brian hadn't. The three men arranged themselves around his cock and licked and sucked and kissed his meat until he cried, "I'm coming," and he did, splattering all three as they each took a turn drinking from the sputtering head. Then, generously, they shared his jizz as they kissed. 

 

Kenneth glared at him from across the table. "You won't fuck me but you'll go out and get fucked. That it?"

So he must have come by the room or called. But Harris couldn't be sure so there was no need to verify anything. "Who says I went out?"

"I do. I called. And came by."

"I was there, I just didn't want to talk to you," he replied, cool as could be.

Kenneth played his trump. "I checked with the front desk. They saw you leave."

Fuck. Still… "Jealous?"

"Fuck you."

"No, fuck you!" he said loud enough for the people at the next table to hear. He lowered his voice. "We had a great relationship, a business relationship. I told you that's all it could be. But you want to fuck it up."

"What are you going to tell him?" Brian started to leave. "Wait." He sat back down. "I'm sorry."

"You want to pull your account, fine, that's your right, it's your fuckin' company. But who I fuck is my concern. My personal life is none of your goddamn business."

"I said I'm sorry."

Brian said nothing more, just finished his breakfast.

There was a final conference presentation scheduled for the morning but Brian didn't feel up to wheeling and dealing after his confrontation with Kenneth. Wasting the opportunity, he returned to his room after breakfast and called Justin.

"Hey." He sounded sleepy despite it being late morning in Pittsburgh.

"How was the party?" Brian asked casually as if he weren't in the midst of turmoil.

"It was great. Your mom came."

"Gus like his present?"

"He loved it. He rode it all afternoon. Lindsay said he wanted to sleep in it."

Brian smiled, just imagining the toddler whizzing around with Beh. "Take pictures?"

"And Mel videotaped everything. How's the conference?"

"Almost over."

"You're getting back around midnight?"

"Don't wait up. I'll get a cab."

Despite Brian's apparent calmness, Justin picked up on something. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Look, I gotta go."

"'Kay. I love you."

"Love you too." He hung up and squeezed his eyes shut. Then called Lindz before his courage dissipated.

"Hey, hold on a minute," she said. "Gus! Gus, it's Dada!"

The baby came on the line. "Hey!"

"Hey, Sonny Boy. Happy Birthday. Did you get your car?"

"Car, Dada."

"Do you like your car?"

"Yeah. Go ride, Dada."

Brian laughed. "I think Dada's too big to ride in your car but I can watch you. Okay?"

"'Kay."

"I love you."

"Lu you," the baby whispered.

"Bye-bye."

"Bye-bye, Dada."

Lindz came back on and Brian managed to say goodbye before he broke down. What the fuck was he doing in LA when he should be home with Justin and Gus? What the fuck was he going to say to Justin? _I didn't sleep with Kenneth but I went out and fucked three strangers?"_ Lying on the bed, he cried until he thought his head would explode. Because he didn't think, he never fucking did until it was too late, until he had another sin on his conscience and no good way to expatiate it. But he had thought this time. He'd known that it was better to go out and be with strangers than to stay and be with Kenneth because the nameless tricks could never hurt him and Justin but Kenneth could, he could hurt them the same way Xavier had hurt them. So he had gone out because he couldn’t have stayed in, waiting for Kenneth to knock on this door and begin tearing down everything he and Justin had fought to build together. So he cried and then he got up, washed his face, and went out to walk off his penance, like the Wandering Jew. 

They had driven most of the way to the airport before either of them spoke.

"Brian, I'm sorry. I respect you and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize our business relationship."

"How do I know that?"

"I give you my word." At Brian's suspicious look, he confessed, "I won't lie to you, I want you. I've wanted you since the moment we met. I'll probably always want you. But I'm a big boy and I need your advertising skills more than I need your ass. So if being colleagues is all we can be, then I'll take that and leave the rest alone. But I'd like us to be friends, if we could."

"You think we can?"

"I'm willing to try."

Brian met his eyes. "Then we do it."

Just like that. Kenneth laughed. "I'm going to miss you."

"You're the multimillionaire with the private jet. Come visit."

"I will," promised Harris.

"Speaking of which," said Brian, "why am I flying commercial?"

"I can barely resist you at sea level," Kenneth joked, "I don't think I could do it at thirty thousand feet. The air's kinda thin." 

 

Paying the driver, Brian took the stairs two at a time. He missed his baby.

Justin was waiting at the door. Moved into his arms as Brian dropped his suitbag. They kissed in the doorway.

"Thought I told you not to wait up," Brian said as they parted and went inside the loft.

"I didn't listen," Justin replied and he pulled Brian into the bedroom. 

 

Ten minutes later, his clothes in a heap next to the bed, Justin naked in his arms, Brian was very glad his lover had disregarded his request.

Justin fanned his fingers over Brian's neck and kissed his throat, slowly making his way first to his chin and then to his lips. His plump, perfect lips. Justin caught them between his own and kissed him deeply as he wrapped arms and legs about Brian, hard and wet already against his belly. Brian's palm cupped his rear and pulled him closer still. "I love you," Justin whispered during one of the rare moments their lips parted but he said no more as Brian renewed their kiss and there were more important things to do with lips and tongues than to waste on words.

How long had it been since they'd lain together in anything other than anger and recrimination? And how foolish did they feel for having wasted nights that could have been better employed? No more. Setting aside all thoughts save one, they made love into the late hours of the night.

The early hours of the new day found them awakening out of a light sleep to make their way back to one another's arms, Brian sinking into his lover's body with ease. With each stroke, Justin felt his chest tighten, his belly harden, and he gripped Brian with his arms and thighs, fighting to hold himself together when his body wanted to fly apart.

Brian thrust deeper as if he could pin Justin to the bed and keep him rooted there but his motions only aided Justin's dissolution. The teen buried his head in Brian's chest and gasped as his body convulsed and he was gone.

The muscles in his body slackened and it flopped back onto the bed, having been freed from action by the absence of thought. Cum clung to Justin's pale skin and the swollen cock lay lazy against his thigh, a last trickle of jizz seeping from the tip.

Brian withdrew from the youth's limp body and skinned the condom from his dick. Thrust the organ through his fist.

Opening his eyes, he saw his lover kneeling above him, the head of his cock peeking at him each time it cleared Brian's hand, the hole gaping open and wet with precum. Rising, reanimated, he pushed Brian over onto his back and fastened his mouth on him, ravenous for the taste of his flesh. And Brian murmured, "Oh God, oh God, oh God. . ." as Justin sucked him. His cock was hard and fire red, tender from its exertions; his balls ached to release their load yet again. With one hand jacking the shaft, Justin fed greedily on the bulbous head, using lips and teeth and tongue to coax his man to come, 'til he tasted the first spurt of cream. Then he ceased all movement and let Brian thrust as he would until he was spent.

Collapsed upon the bed, Brian thought he would never move again. But he was wrong. Justin, holding Brian's cum in his mouth, laid on his back and raised his legs, spread them revealing his wrinkled hole, still relaxed from the fucking it had received. The teen opened his mouth and let the harvested spunk flow over his fingers.

"Fuck," breathed Brian as Justin spread his lover's cum over his asshole until it ran between his cheeks. In an instant, Brian had regained enough strength to rise and lie between Justin's thighs, lapping the boy clean.

And Justin sighed, loving the feather soft touch of his tongue. 

 

 

Twice he almost confessed, almost told Justin about LA and the club and the men and twice his courage failed and he busied himself with something else because what good would it do to confess it? Justin would be hurt and disappointed and all of the progress they had made would be for naught because he didn't think Justin would forgive him this and, even if he did, there'd always be a question in the teen's mind whenever Brian went away and it would eat at them, eat at them both until all good was gnawed away and they'd be left with nothing but the barest bits of love to keep them together. Love wasn't enough. He was no fool to believe that. Justin had to trust him. And he did. And he would continue to trust him as long as he didn't know.

So Brian would keep his sin to himself. 

 

 

It was Christmas in October; the area in front of the livingroom windows was dominated by an eight-foot artificial tree decorated with a multitude of silk flowers, insects, and animals. Butterflies, honey bees, hummingbirds, and dragonflies vied for a taste of sweet nectar from roses and daffodils, lilacs and daisies. Elsewhere in the room, to continue the theme, were round topiary trees on which grew oranges, peaches, and lemons. The cool, muted colors of the livingroom had been camouflaged beneath colored slipcovers, the white paper lamps replaced by more traditional ones in rich jewel tones.

When Joanie had finished with the room, neither Brian nor Justin recognized it. Not only was it Christmas in the autumn, it was Christmas in someone else's home. "Well," she asked nervously, "what do you think?"

Saying nothing, Brian reached for his camera and began to photograph the transformed room.

Justin shook his head. "It's amazing. I'm glad we have before pictures of the loft cause no one is going to believe this is the same place."

From the livingroom they went into the dining area where she'd set up a wedding reception with an arch in front of the window where the ceremony would take place and two tables for the cake and gifts. Everything was decorated in white and green and wine, down to the wine-colored Calla lilies that featured prominently in the designs of everything from the bridal bouquet to the table ornamentation.

Again, impressed beyond words, Brian busied himself with shooting her work.

In the kitchen and bath Joanie had worked on product displays, choosing one item to feature and arranging the settings to best market that object. And, again, her displays made a favorable impression on the two of them and they were astounded at how different everything looked.

When he was done taking pictures, Brian said to her, "Not bad," which meant in Brianese, "Shit, that was fucking awesome."

"I hope I didn't spend too much money."

Brian had footed the bills for the supplies but it was worth it if she could get work based on her portfolio and he was certain she would. He'd definitely have no problems suggesting her to the company that produced a number of commercials for them. So he replied, "I'll take it out of your first commission." As Joanie wandered the apartment, finally allowing herself to enjoy her creations, Brian noticed Justin staring at the wedding display and he went to him and hugged him from behind, laid his chin on the boy's crown. Waited.

It was so beautiful. The flowers and ribbons tasteful, not too shi-shi, the colors and design one that would appeal to men and women alike. "She did a good job," he said.

"She did a great job. And?"

He imagined them standing beneath the arch, reciting vows that they had written and he felt a pang of regret, that they hadn't. And then he smiled, thinking of how surprised he'd been to feel the rings in his palm, how beautiful their ceremony had been; even if it had only been the two of them exchanging a few simple words, those words had bound them as closely as any other vows would have. So he said finally, "And I was thinking that none of this would have made any difference."

Brian said nothing in answer, just gave him a tiny peck on the top of his head and held him.

Turning from the tree, Joanie saw them standing together, the arch framing their bodies even though they stood some feet way from it, and she imagined the two of them reciting vows before their families and friends and the thought made her smile. And then she wondered how Jack would have responded to them, if he would have ever come to accept their marriage. For it came to her in that moment, most clearly, that they were married, that they shared a life and a love that was just as valid, just as real as any blessed in a church; and she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for the two of them, that they would know happiness and joy all the days of their lives.

On top of the Styrofoam cake, a tiny bride and groom prepared to take their first steps together.


	9. The Last Minute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin meet an extraordinary person.

Despite collectively owning five umbrellas, they'd managed to leave all of them either at home or in the Jeep which was parked a good six blocks away. The rain, which had begun modestly enough, gently taping the roofs of cars, suddenly picked up until huge drops drummed against everything they touched. Ducking into the first open doorway they came to, Brian and Justin laughed and shook their hair free of water. Then they looked around to see where they were and their eyes gleamed with delight.

Bookcases lined the walls, filled not only with books but also with assorted knick-knacks and doo-dads. A Six Million Dollar Man lunch box sat next to a complete set of James Bond novels, black hardcover edition. A dozen blue glass goblets shared a shelf with a tea cozy in the shape of a rooster. A See and Say leaned against a Trivial Pursuit game. In addition to the bookshelves there were a dozen or more glass display cases holding everything from medals and bits of silverware to marbles and toy cars, cut glass tiaras and wooden beads. The walls were covered with dart boards and mirrors, candelabras and banners, posters and hand woven rugs. There were baskets of croquet balls and packs of playing cards; and a tall canister filled with… umbrellas.

Justin tugged Brian's arm and pointed.

"Probably an antique," Brian said. "I don’t want to spend forty bucks for an umbrella when I've already got three."

"But never one when you need it," said an unseen voice, coming from the depths of the store.

They looked. Saw a doorway covered by a piece of damask. Holding the cloth to one side was an older man. In his late sixties maybe, snowy white hair and twinkling blue eyes. He'd spoken with a soft British accent which meant he'd chosen to live in the USA and in Pitts, something that amazed Brian. He still couldn't believe that Emmett had stopped in Pitts on his way to New York City and had never gone any further. Of course, he was still here. He didn't like to think about that very often. The only things that made it bearable were his family and friends, in particular, Justin, Gus, and Mikey.

The proprietor smiled. "I assure you, not all of them are antiques. Some are just junk. But one man's junk is another man's treasure." He came out into the main body of the store and both Brian and Justin could see that he was a handsome man still despite his age, fit and trim. And his voice conjured up visions of tea plantations in Ceylon or big game hunting in Kenya. Passing them, he instructed them to look around. " I was just about to close up. Have a spot of tea."

"Oh," replied Justin, "we'll go."

"No, no," the man said, waving away the suggestion. "Stay. Join me if you like. There's plenty. I always make too much. It'll take the chill off."

Checking with Brian visually and receiving no signal at all, Justin accepted. He never turned down food. "Thank you."

As he led them to the back, the man said, "Maybe by then the rain will have stopped and you won't have to purchase an umbrella after all."

The two lovers followed him out of the store and up a flight of stairs to an apartment above. They were both astonished that he'd trust them in his home; they were even more astounded that they'd accepted.

 _He could be some kind of a killer,_ thought Brian. _Fuck. Too late to turn back now._ Maybe they could contrive not to eat or drink anything. Anyway, he looked harmless enough.

In contrast to the chaos below, his home was pristine, composed of clean lines and simple furnishings, understated elegance yet warm and inviting.

Brian approved and Justin told him, "I like your apartment."

"Thank you." He gestured to the sofa. "Please, please. Sit." As they did so, he glanced around the apartment although he knew where every item was by heart. "Thomas and I spent a number of years getting it just right."

Justin exchanged a look with his partner. _Thomas and I…_

"But," their host said suddenly, "where are my manners? I'm Sebastian, Sebastian Mills," and held out his hand.

Justin took it. "Justin."

"Brian."

"Your rings are quite lovely. How long have you been together?"

Risking a pinch or a poke from Justin, Brian replied, "A looong time."

"Can't have been that long," Sebastian pointed out, "Justin only looks to be... nineteen?"

Justin nodded. "We met when I was seventeen."

"Ah," Sebastian beamed, "young love." Clapped his hands together once and rubbed them. "The tea. I'll return shortly." And he disappeared through a doorway and they heard him run water in the sink and then set something down on metal, most likely the kettle on the stove.

Justin leaned closer to Brian. "Where do you think Thomas is?"

"Shady Grove." A local cemetery.

"Me too. Poor man. He must be so lonely. I’m glad we came up."

"We'll see how glad you are when we end up next to Thomas."

Justin elbowed him and straightened up as Sebastian returned with a tray of sandwiches.

"You shouldn't have gone to any trouble," Brian said, which was the polite thing to say, so his mother had taught him as a little boy. Still, he took the proffered plate and napkin.

"No trouble at all, I always make too much. Habit, I suppose. From when Thomas was alive."

Never having had tea, even in London, Justin was curious about everything. He took a couple of the tiny sandwiches from the platter and without hesitation tasted one. Seemed to be some sort of a paste but not bad. "You do this everyday?"

"Old habits." The kettle sounded. "Excuse me." Again he returned to the kitchen.

A glance outside the window told Brian that the rain hadn't slacked off any. He too found the sandwiches tastier than they looked.

"Still think he's trying to poison us?" Justin asked and Brian kissed him. Just as he pulled away, Sebastian returned with a tray. On it were three cups and a porcelain tea service.

"It's been a long time since two handsome young men kissed in my parlor." He set down the tray. "Brightens up the place." Handing each a cup, he poured the tea and offered milk and sugar of which Justin accepted both while Brian took only sugar. There was also a plate of assorted cakes and cookies to which they liberally helped themselves.

As the question had been burning in his mind, Justin asked, "Why did you leave England? We went to London this summer and it was amazing."

"Well, it was rather a different place after the war."

"What war?" asked Brian. After all, England hadn't been the site of a war since the big one, WWII, and Sebastian couldn't have meant that one. He wasn't old enough.

"World War II," the man replied.

"Must have been a baby," said Brian.

"No," Sebastian said, confounding him, "a soldier. Not much older than Justin."

Taking a second look at their host and doing the math, Brian shook his head. "I can't believe you're in your seventies." He didn't look it. His eyes were clear, carriage erect, hands steady, gait sturdy.

"Thank you. Military training, you know. Never gave up exercising. Keeping fit."

Giving Justin the eye, Brian smiled and took another sandwich. He was always telling Justin how he should exercise more but the teen preferred to rely on his metabolism to keep thin. So far it had worked. "Why did you come to America?" Brian asked, returning to Justin's earlier question.

"I met an American soldier stationed in Britain."

"Thomas," supplied Justin.

"Yes. Thomas." He looked out of the window and both Brian and Justin knew that he wasn't seeing the rain here but in Britain instead. Maybe he and Thomas had run through the rain the same as they had all those years ago. Looking back at his guests, Sebastian continued with his story. "We fell in love and decided to return to the States. America was experiencing a boom after the war and Europe was definitely on the decline. I suppose we could have stayed and helped with the rebuilding but we were young. We were in love. And we'd seen enough of war and destruction. We wanted to be happy, to live the way we wanted to live."

"Were you? Happy?" Justin perched his cup of tea on his knee.

"Very much so."

And the sadness in his voice told Brian that he missed his lover still. "How long has he been gone?"

Sebastian set down his cup of tea. "Three years now. He died in his sleep. Quite peaceful. We'd never looked for it to be that way. Because of the war." He stood up and went over to the fireplace, took down a small photo in a chased silver frame. Handed it to Justin.

"Is that you?" In the picture were two handsome young men, one blonde, the other with dark brown hair, arms around one another's shoulder and waist, sitting on a sofa.

"We took that photograph in 1950, at someone's apartment in Greenwich Village. Can't remember whose." Brian handed him the photo. "My hair used to be the same color as Justin's."

Brian found himself drawn to the older man. "Have you always had this place?"

"No. We both retired from the steel mills. He was a foreman and I was an accountant."

Both Brian and Justin laughed. "We have a friend who's an accountant," Brian explained. "I can't see him firing a handgun in combat. Actually, it kinda scares me to think about him with a gun at all."

"After we retired, we bought this place and set up shop. I do just enough business to keep it open and not a whit more." He glanced out of the window. "Looks like the rain's stopped."

As they had finished their tea and they had no real reason to stay-- except that they'd fallen a little in love with their host-- Justin and Brian decided it was time to go.

Downstairs in the shop, as Sebastian was walking them to the door, Justin espied a miniature plaster model of the Tritone Fountain in the Piazza Barberini, the one with the bee. "Hey. We saw that when we were in Rome."

Removing it from its niche, Sebastian offered it to him.

"No, I…"

"Take it. For spending an afternoon with a lonely, old man."

"We'll pay you for it," offered Brian but Sebastian refused.

"My gift. Please."

Justin held the model in the palm of his hand and marveled at the detail. Then shyly kissed the older man on the cheek. "Thank you."

As they walked away, they saw him turning the 'Closed' sign around. 

 

The miniature fountain occupied a place of honor on the nightstand on Justin's side of the bed. Waiting for Brian to come out of the bathroom, he smiled as he looked at it. Brian returned and laid next to him, slipped his arm around his torso. "I really liked him," Justin said.

Brian kissed his shoulder. "Yeah."

Turning in his lover's arms, Justin reached up and touched his face. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being nice to him."

"He's kinda sweet."

Justin reached up and kissed him. "So are you." They kissed for a few moments, then Brian broke from him and looked over the teenager's shoulder at the model.

"I can still hear the water splashing," he said and he could feel it too, on his fingers, where he had dipped his hand in the fountain.

Glancing back at the model, Justin remarked, "Everything was so beautiful there." He turned to Brian, studied his face and the line of his neck. "Beautiful here too." He traced an airy pattern on Brian's throat, then brought his fingers up to his lips to brush lightly over them as well.

Brian bussed the tips of Justin's fingers, then drew them into his mouth. Released them. Leaned over to kiss his lover's lips. 

 

Two weeks later, Justin found himself back in front of Sebastian's store. He hadn't noticed the name before: Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe. Appropriate for an Englishman. Pushing open the door, he went inside and there was the owner sitting in a comfortable wing-backed chair reading. When he saw who it was, he smiled. "Justin."

Pleased that he'd remembered, the teen gave a little wave. "Hi."

Putting away the slender volume, Sebastian stood and held out his hand. "How very good to see you again."

"I couldn't remember where this place was so I just wandered around."

"Sit, sit." Justin took a footstool near Sebastian's chair and they both settled down. "And how is Brian?"

"He's great. He's at work today."

"On a Saturday?"

Justin found that funny that the man seemed surprised since Sebastian was at work too. Sort of. "He made partner so he's got twice as much work to do now." He hadn't intended to sound bitter but knew that he did. He shrugged casually.

"So, you're a free man about town, out on your own recognizance." It made him smile just as Sebastian had hoped. He really had a beautiful smile, one that made the older man's heart race just a little. Foolish, he told himself. "Luckily, you're just in time for tea."

As before, Justin waited while Sebastian puttered in the kitchen, having refused any offer of help. "I know where everything is and it'll only take a moment," he had said. So Justin walked around the parlor looking at the artwork on the walls and the pictures on the mantelpiece until Sebastian returned. His taste in art seemed to run to watercolors and landscapes but the pieces he had were exquisite nonetheless, including some fine Turner prints. As he set down the tray and Justin came back over to the sofa, Sebastian explained, "I adore Turner."

"We saw his paintings of Venice at the National Gallery. Everything seemed to be bathed in sunlight. Once we got to Venice, we understood what he'd meant."

"Sounds as if you had a marvelous trip."

Even now he could feel the Tuscan sun on his face, hear the Vespas whizzing by, see the Charing Cross station glistening in the starlight, smell the fresh bread baking at the boulangerie. "It was amazing."

Taking a cautious sip, Sebastian asked, "Where else did you go?"

"To Spain and Paris."

"And which city did you like best?" As Justin hesitated, Sebastian urged him on. "Come now, I have no loyalties to London. I've been too long in America for that."

"Paris," Justin replied at last.

"Why?"

"The art, the food, the shopping… the Champs Elysees and Montmartre… going out to Versailles… walking along the Seine at night. It was just so beautiful." He ducked his head. "And so romantic." Softly, he added, "I think we fell in love all over again in Paris."

"Happens quite often, I hear," teased Sebastian. He watched Justin study his cup of tea, smiling to himself. "You love him a great deal."

That love was at the heart of everything he did, grounding him most days; even when there was trouble between them, he held onto it as the only surety there was. "I do."

"Especially to commit to him when you're still so very young." As he watched Justin, he saw himself at that age, a soldier in the war, uncertain if he was going to live another day, another moment. The world seemed vast and, at the same time, too much with him. And then he'd found Thomas.

Rubbing his ring, Justin said, "He was my first love."

Sensitive to the precise meaning of the words, Sebastian asked, "But not only?"

And Justin shook his head. "But I have a life with Brian. Better than I ever imagined."

"Yet you seem a little sad." When they'd stumbled into his shop escaping the rain, the teen's eyes had glistened with excitement; now, they shone as well, but with unshed tears he would have imagined.

Remembering the evening they'd dined on a rooftop in Naples, looking out at the bay, holding hands across the table, Justin explained, "We were so happy in Europe. Everything was perfect."

"And it's not now?" prompted Sebastian.

"No. Yes. I mean—it's… It's just life, I guess. We spent almost every moment together while we were on vacation and we talked about everything." He lowered his eyes. "I hardly see him anymore. When we came in your shop, that was the first time we'd spent a day together in months. He's always working or I'm in class." Suddenly embarrassed by his confession to a stranger, he laughed. "You don't want to hear this."

"Come. Have some more tea," Sebastian said, "and tell me the rest."

"What about the store?" asked Justin aware of the time that had already passed.

"I'm retired. I do as I please. That's the beauty of it."

So Justin accepted another cup and sweetened it. Held it loosely in his hands. "I feel like there's so little time."

"To do what?"

"Everything. I don't want to waste a single day. Because…" He paused, then began again. "Because you never know what could happen."

"What are you afraid will happen?"

Justin stood and walked around the room again. Stopped in front of one of the Turner pieces. Why had he come? Why here, to talk with Sebastian? Turning his head, he saw the photograph of Sebastian with Thomas. They had made it, had been together all of their lives, so it was possible. Then what was he afraid of? "That I might lose him," he said after a moment.

"From what I saw, he loves you just as much as you love him." It had pleased him, the easy way they'd had with one another, hard won he supposed. There was something about their faces that told him they'd seen their share of troubles, and had overcome them, something about the eyes that seemed wiser than their years.

"He does. But I don't always do the right thing."

"I would suppose he doesn't either."

God, no, and he almost laughed, but he couldn't. "And I'm careless."

"We all are. Justin, my dear boy, you're only nineteen. Much too young to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders."

"You did it." He picked up a framed picture of Sebastian in his uniform. Handsome. "You were a soldier in the war."

"And I was much too young as well. Enjoy your life. Enjoy being in love."

Justin put down the photograph and sat down once more. "How did you do it? Last so long together?"

It was what they all wanted to know, the young men starting out so unsure of everything. "We realized that nothing was more important than our relationship. That doesn't mean that we didn't argue." He laughed. "We argued all the time. And we strayed. Made mistakes. Took one another for granted and behaved most foolishly. And we were very fortunate."

"I want us to grow old together. I want to look back on my life and see him there. Always."

"And you will."

"You can tell the future?" Justin asked, smiling again.

Holding up his cup, he peered inside. "It’s in the tea leaves." They both chuckled and he patted Justin on the knee. "You'll have a wonderful life together."

"Did you know right away when you met Thomas that you'd be together always?"

"Didn't you?"

He could still see Brian walking towards him, feel his heart pounding when he realized that Brian was coming to talk to him, was interested in him. "I wanted that more than anything."

"Now, all you have to do is live. One day after the other, moment by moment."

"That's so easy to say!" A little embarrassed by his outburst, he fumbled with his napkin.

Sebastian reached over and patted his knee. "There's no manual. No magic potion, no secret formula. It's different for everyone. Even if Thomas and I were starting out today, there'd be no guarantees that we'd make it because we'd be different people. All you can do is to remain true to yourself. And to try to the best of your ability to be a good partner, a good friend. If anyone tells you otherwise, be suspicious."

"But there's so much… of everything. I feel… like there's too much sometimes. I feel so small. And lost."

"And a little scared?"

"Sometimes." Like that morning he'd awakened to hear Brian and Drew talking. When he'd realized what had happened, his heart had felt like it was going to burst and he'd wanted to lie down and close his eyes and never open them again. But he hadn't, he'd gone down and fought for Brian, for both their lives. Scared out of his mind.

"It's perfectly fine to be scared. Fear is a very useful emotion. Keeps you from being foolhardy. Take my word, you can be brave and a little fearful too. And remember, he's there for you. Depend on him as he depends on you. Take care of each other. That's my only secret." Justin peered into his eyes to see if he was being truthful. "That no matter what happened, we faced it together."

And so they spent the rest of the afternoon talking and looking at old photographs, Justin listening to Sebastian's stories about growing up in London, and the war, and coming to America, and being with Thomas and he wondered who would listen to his stories when he was old and how long Sebastian had waited to be able to tell someone his.

Before he left, he hugged the older man and promised to return. Soon. 

 

As he entered the loft, he thought he smelled shellfish and sausage. Closing the door, he looked around astounded by the transformation. Stretched across all three of the livingroom windows was the Bay of Naples at sunset. The dining table was draped with a golden table cloth and by each setting was a napkin of burnt sienna. In the center of the table was a vase filled with Gerbera daisies: cheery yellow, deep orange, and bright magenta. The window closest to the bathroom offered a panoramic view of Paris at night.

"Brian?"

The man held a hot pan with an oven mitt. "You're just in time." He dumped the appetizers on a platter and brought it to the table. "Put your stuff down and grab the wine."

"What's going on?" he asked as he did what Brian requested.

Setting the platter down, Brian waited. After Justin had put the wine and glasses on the table, Brian kissed him softly beside the mouth. Held him by his shoulders. "I know we haven't spent a lot of time together since we got back. It’s been crazy at the office—"

"It's okay." He wondered if Brian would buy that.

"No, it's not. But it's getting worse. We're…" He paused, then shook his head. "There's no point in going into it, that's not important. I just wanted you to know that it's gonna be tough for a little while longer."

"I understand,” he replied, which he did. He didn’t like it but he understood.

"I'd rather be with you."

Closing his eyes, Justin leaned against him. It’s all he’d wanted to hear. "I know."

"I think about you all fucking day."

"You do?" He’d figured the new account would have taken up all of his time.

"And I missed you so much today, I thought I'd go crazy."

"Brian…" When he said things like that, it made Justin lose his train of thought.

"So I decided that we need a little vacation. And," he waved towards the loft, "since we can't go back to Europe, why not let Europe come to us? The Bay of Naples, the Parisian skyline… paella from Spain, Italian and French wine… And,” he picked up the remote and cut on the CD player. “The Counting Crows."

Justin laughed remembering them dancing around the fountain in Leicester Square. "What’s for dessert?"

"Guess."

"Tiramisu?" Brian smiled and Justin leapt in his arms. "I love you."

Holding him tightly and kissing him again, this time below the ear, Brian whispered, "I love you too, baby. More than anything."

Over dinner they played catch-up.

"This campaign is kicking my ass," Brian revealed. "I don't know what the fuck to do. The clients hate everything we bring to the table and Ryder's about to blow a gasket." He twirled a plucked daisy in his hand. "It's my first real test as partner. I can't fuck it up."

"You won't. You're an advertising god, remember?"

"Maybe I'm slowing down. Getting…" He took a deep breath. There was no point in thinking about that because it was going to happen if he lived: he would eventually get old. But maybe it would be all right, as long as Justin was with him. "What about you? What did you do today?"

"I went and saw Sebastian. The man who owned the antique shop. Remember?"

"Yeah.” _Wasn’t bad-looking for an old guy. Wonder if I’ll look as good?_ “You have tea?"

"And we talked."

"About?"

"Stuff."

Brian smiled and threw the daisy at Justin who ducked, then bent over and picked the flower from the floor, held it to his nose. "Never mind,” Brian told him, “I'll just read your journal." Which was a joke between them.

"He's really amazing.”

Softly, "So are you."

Taking Brian's hand, Justin stood and came around the table, sat in his lap, and kissed him gently. "So are you." 

 

Brian parted from him, both of them virtually breathless, and Justin reached for his lover, the man showering his fingers with kisses before leaning in for another taste of his lips. Between breaths, Justin said, "Kiss me."

"I am."

"No," he began but couldn't finish as Brian continued to gnaw on his lips.

Drawing away again, Brian asked, "Where?" Before Justin's hand had reached its destination, Brian had guessed where it would come to rest. Wrapped around the base of his cock. The teen held it away from his stomach, a line of precum stretched from its tip to the fine hairs that dusted the flat plain of his belly. With a growl of anticipation, Brian kissed the moist head. At Justin's groan, he continued, lips pursed about the cap to deliver a series of gentle kisses.

Each touch of Brian's mouth was feather soft. His lips brushed over the teen's skin, teasing him, demanding that his flesh stiffen, fill, tingle.

When he had covered the entire head with kisses, Brian moved down the shaft, giving it the same treatment, until he'd left his print all over Justin's cock.

Legs spread, back arched, and mouth open, Justin moaned as Brian made love to him. He was so hard and Brian's lips were so soft… He cupped his balls, thumb on the neck of his dick to keep it free of his abdomen, and fought the urge to thrust. Sticky, clear liquid dripped down his shaft and onto his fingers and he thought he would explode. Brian had moved around so that he lay between his baby's thighs and he stroked the smooth columns of flesh feeding the boy's arousal. At last Justin released his cock and through slitted eyes watched as Brian devoured him. Each tug, each suck made his head spin.

Mouth full, Brian hummed his pleasure, Justin's cries accompanying him. Finally, he reached for the lube. Slicked Justin from base to tip and held him upright. They had dispensed with condoms, done with two rounds of testing and the waiting period. Now, they were back to having sex the way they preferred. Positioning his buttocks over the teen's rampant cock, Brian lowered himself until the head eased between his cheeks. Feeling it press against his hole, he grinned, then rotated his hips slowly.

Justin gripped his thighs and held him still, pushed and entered him.

Pressing down, Brian opened around his lover with a sigh. As he came to rest at the base of Justin's cock, he shivered. His nipples were hard and as Justin touched them, rubbing his finger over the tips, it felt as if he were stroking his dick. In response it dripped, precum running over the head, glistening in Justin's pubes as Brian rode his cock.

Rise and fall, rise... and fall. Brian's movements were like the ebb and flow of the ocean and in Justin's mind he could see the waves surging over the shore of the Bay of Naples, then receding. Brian was liquid, his body coated with sweat, skin slick with it; saliva flecking his lips as he panted. His muscles jerked with the motion of fish swimming through water.

"Baby," he moaned. "Baby…" Tightened around Justin. Tightened. Tightened. "Oh— Oh, baby. Oh, baby." He caught his breath and shuddered, cum gushing forth to spill on his lover's belly while Justin cried out and fountained inside him. 

 

One more meeting with those assholes this week and he could put them out of his mind for a few days. Saturday, he planned on sleeping in late and Sunday, he and Justin had a date for brunch. Just the two of them. Opening the bulging folder, he stretched his neck and looked around as the door opened. "Baby?" As the teen neared him, Brian could see that his eyes were shiny with tears. "What?"

"It's Sebastian."

 _Fuck. Gone then._ Taking Justin in his arms, he held him close and swallowed around a lump in his own throat.

"His lawyer called. Said that Sebastian left something for us."

"When's the funeral?" Selfishly, he hoped it didn’t interfere with his plans.

"Saturday afternoon."

"Did he say how…?"

"Died in his sleep. Just like Thomas. Guess he got tired of waiting," and he pressed his face into Brian's jacket and wept. 

 

A week after the funeral, they received a package in the mail. Sat on the bed and opened it. Brian read the accompanying letter.

_"Dear Justin and Brian,_

_I’ve instructed my solicitor to send these things to you. Although the majority of my estate will be sold and the money donated to the AIDS hospice, there were a few items that I wanted you to have. The Turner prints will be sent over separately along with the tea service. I hope you enjoy the CD I’ve sent as much as I have.”_

Justin reached in and took out the CD for the soundtrack to The Bridges of Madison County. He pressed his lips together tightly, remembering the afternoon they'd spent together watching the film and how he’d left the apartment humming the beautiful songs, Robert’s words still with him: _“This kind of certainty comes but once in a lifetime.”_

 _"As for the enclosed photographs…"_ Brian looked over at Justin who removed the silver-framed picture of Sebastian and Thomas from the manila envelope. Continued to read.

 _"…neither of us had any family and I thought perhaps you could take them out occasionally and think of us so that we're not completely forgotten in the world. And remember, dear boys, be happy, always. Fondly, Sebastian."_ Placing the letter on the bed, Brian waited for Justin to say something.

Instead of speaking, he positioned the photograph among the others on top of the tall boy. Justin bent his head for a moment and Brian knew that he was crying. Embracing him, he kissed his crown.

Justin half-turned in his arms. "I don't want to be forgotten."

"We won't be. We have Gus and he'll remember us. And them,” Brian said with a smile. “We'll show him the pictures and tell him all about Sebastian and Thomas, and how they fell in love during the war, and came to America, and he'll remember. He won't forget about them.”

“Or us?” he asked.

“Or us. We’ll have a trunk full of pictures. Fifty years’ worth, at least. And we’ll drag ‘em out whenever Gus and his kids come over and we’ll drive ‘em crazy.” He and Justin laughed. “I promise. We won't be forgotten. Not us." He kissed his partner again and whispered, "The greatest fucking love story ever." 

 

As Johnny Hartman’s voice drifted through the apartment, _“We won't say "Good night" until the last minute/ I'll hold out my hand and my heart will be in it…”_ they swayed together, not really dancing, just holding onto one another, creating memories to cherish, for a lifetime and beyond. 

 

**Song**

“For All We Know,” words by Sam M. Lewis and music by J. Fred Coots


	10. Just in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin learns the truth about Brian's LA trip. This story encompasses events that occured both in "Life Redux" and "The Last Minute".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A birthday story for my friend, Colleen.)

Frustrated, he haphazardly pushed the stack of files aside and drew his laptop closer, reaching out a hand to steady the file folders before they toppled over onto the floor. Cynthia would give him a ten-minute lecture if he a) disordered the precisely arranged documents within the files or b) made a mess of his immaculate new office. For some strange reason she believed it reflected badly on her. Whatever. Stealing a few minutes away from his work, he checked his email. He ignored the messages from potential tricks who persisted in contacting him although he had ceased prowling the online chatrooms and, instead, opened a message from JustINtime@pittserv.com. Smiling, he wondered what his little boy wanted. Usually when the teen was in the mood to play he used his Bountiful Bottom alias.

"Hey Pookie," the note began and Brian grimaced. Fuck. If anybody ever heard Justin call him that or, worse, ever realized how much he actually didn't mind being called Pookie, he'd never be able to live it down. Never. He read the rest.

"Wanna have dinner down at Mick's Cafe? I don't feel like cooking and, besides, I want to save my energy for celebrating. Pick me up at school around six thirty? Love you. Justin."

Celebrating? What were they-- Oh. Fuck. Checked the messages Cynthia had handed him as he'd returned from lunch, messages he'd ignored. One was from his doctor. The results of the last round of HIV testing he and Justin had undergone. Which meant they could go back to having sex sans condoms once again. They'd both been monogamous for the past five going on six months and this was their reward. At least, Justin hadn't been with anyone else.

It had been on his mind for the past few weeks, ever since he'd come back from LA. He'd thought of telling Justin more than once and had found that he couldn't. He'd conveniently forgotten that the wait would be over soon and that he was expected to be as thrilled about it as Justin. Now that the moment was upon them, he had no idea what to do. To refuse Justin would be tantamount to telling him the truth. To go through with it, a lie. And possibly worse. But he'd been careful, he was always careful. Except when he'd decided to go out in the first place and fuck around. Then he'd been oh so careless and so very, very stupid.

Still he had to answer Justin. Quickly he wrote, "Six thirty. I'll be there. Later." Sent it. Checked his watch. There was time. 

 

Crossing his legs, Drew flipped the top on a new notepad which Brian noticed with a lift of his brow. "So you've missed some sessions since you got back from Europe."

"Busy."

"We had an agreement." That Brian would continue therapy, especially in light of his suicide attempt.

"Sorry."

Which was all Becker was going to get out of him at the moment. "This routine maintenance or an emergency?"

"Little of both, I guess."

"Patient's choice."

Brian wondered where to begin, wanting to get to the heart of the matter but needing to approach it a little more circumspectly. "I was promoted. Partner."

"Congratulations."

He acknowledged it with a nod. "I had to go to LA. For a conference. With Kenneth Harris."

Whom Drew remembered Brian mentioning in previous sessions. "He still hot for you?" As if that would ever change.

"Doc."

"Of course, he is. Go on."

"We did a presentation together and it was amazing. We went out to dinner, I made a lot of contacts, everything was going great. And then he made a play for me."

"What kind?"

"Kissed me. He wanted more than that though."

"What did you do?" Drew asked, certain he was about to hear about another of Brian's conquests.

"I told him no. Told him to go away."

So far so good. "That what you wanted?"

"I wanted... I wanted... I didn't want to hurt Justin."

"How would sleeping with Kenneth have hurt Justin?"

"Cause it would have been more than that."

Well, that was something. Brian admitting that someone had affected him. "You were tempted." The man said nothing. "Brian?"

"I shouldn't have been."

"But you were." He would liked to have met the man who had managed to snag more than Brian's passing interest. "There's no harm in that. And you said no." He watched as Brian's gaze slipped downwards. Of course, there was more. "Did he come back?"

"I wasn't there."

Jumping to no conclusions, Drew asked, "Where did you go?"

"Out." He stood, paused, then sat back down, knowing that Drew preferred him to sit during their sessions. "To the baths."

The therapist sighed inwardly. "Out tricking?"

"I couldn’t stay there. Waiting for him to show up. I don't think I could have said no again."

That was something, that Brian had admitted that to himself. He still hadn't said what had happened at the baths but it didn't take a genius to figure that out. Why else would he be here? "So you went out to the baths. Then what?"

"Met three guys."

"Three?" Drew could barely keep the surprise and-- if he admitted to himself-- jealousy from his voice.

"Yeah."

"You've got to write this shit down." Incredible.

"In what? Another journal?"

Ashamed of his initial response, Drew clamped down on his personal interest and resumed his questioning, on a purely professional level. "Sorry. So did you tell Justin?"

"I have issues, Doc, but I'm not crazy."

"Then what's the problem?" He knew what the problem was, he wanted Brian to vocalize it.

"I lied to him."

And Brian, for all of his faults, had an honest streak that seemed to surprise even him on occasion. "He asked you if you'd slept with anyone on your trip?"

"I omitted to tell him everything that happened in LA." Which was damned near the same thing as telling a lie.

"Do you want to tell him?"

"I don't know."

"You want me to tell you what to do?"

"Yeah, I do." Brian rubbed the back of his neck. "But you won't."

"How's Justin doing?"

"Great."

"You two having any other problems?"

"Just that we're both busy and we can't seem to find a lot of time to be together."

"If you told him about LA, how do you think he'd react?"

"He'd freak out." That was putting it mildly. "He didn't want me to go in the first place because I missed Gus' birthday party. If he found out about... Jesus, he'd-- I don’t know what he'd do." And that scared him, enough to bring him back to therapy.

"But he wouldn't thank you for it, would he?"

"No."

"Would it make you feel any better to tell him?"

"I-- No."

"Then why would you tell him?"

"It'd be the honest thing to do."

"So tell him and deal with the fallout."

"Are you saying I shouldn't?"

"I'm saying you need to weigh the consequences of your actions, then decide what's right for you."

"I shouldn't have gone out tricking."

"No, you shouldn't have." It amazed him to no end that Brian could be so astute and yet so foolish sometimes. As if he were two, three different people with different needs, different abilities and strengths. "You had about a thousand other options and you chose to go to the baths and then you chose to have casual sex with not one but three strangers. You want forgiveness, tell Justin and take the chance that he won't forgive you and that, maybe, you'll fuck up everything you've worked hard for. Or keep it from him and deal with the guilt. Because that's really why you're here. You think I'm going to tell you something to make you feel better. Well, I can't. There's nothing I can tell you that's going to make you sleep better at night except to say that what you did was wrong. Not morally. I could give a fuck about morals. It was wrong because you jeopardized your relationship with Justin. But it's not the worst thing anyone's ever done."

"Doc, it's not even the worst thing I've ever done."

"Then what's wrong?"

Where to begin? "Things... were supposed to be different. But they're not." He was aware of the inadequacy of his explanation.

"They are."

"Then maybe it's me that's the same."

"You know that's not true."

"I keep making the same mistakes. We went to Europe and we had the time of our lives. I thought I'd never want anyone else. All it took was one kiss." Granted, it was Kenneth. With anyone else, it wouldn't have mattered as much if at all.

"But you resisted."

"Him. And then I went out and screwed up everything."

"No, you didn't. You made an error in judgement."

"I want... "

"What, Brian?"

"I want to be able to trust myself."

"And you don't?"

"I thought... after Xavier, I thought nothing and no one could ever touch us again because we wouldn't let 'em." He studied his hands. "I really don’t deserve him."

"Brian, don’t do this. Let it go. And be happy. Be vigilant, be careful, but don't let this destroy you, destroy what you have."

"We were supposed to go back to... we've been tested and retested and we've been monogamous. That's what he believes. So what do I tell him?"

"You were careful, weren't you?"

"Always. I don't think I could stand it. If something happened to him because of me. I think I would... " He pushed the thought from his mind.

Sensing the danger, Drew tried to move them away from that topic. "Nothing's going to happen."

"You promise me that?"

"I can't."

"No." Brian gazed out of the window at the waning afternoon. "No one can." 

 

"You don’t like it."

Brian looked up. "What?"

"The restaurant," Justin replied. Brian hadn't said ten words since they'd arrived.

He gave it a once-over. Not the worst place they'd ever eaten, not the best either. A little noisy but that wasn't unusual. "It's fine."

"I should have picked someplace else," Justin insisted, sure that's what was bothering him.

"Baby, it's fine. Really."

"Then what is it?"

"What's what?" Stalling, which Justin knew.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He picked up a breadstick and snapped it in half. Offered Justin a piece. "Nothing's wrong." Justin shook his head so Brian dropped both halves back in the basket.

"You're so quiet."

"Eating."

The teen surveyed Brian's plate, it was still three quarters full despite his having had it before him for almost fifteen minutes. "You're not."

"Baby--"

"Don't 'Baby' me. And don't lie to me." They gazed at one another, neither one willing to back off. "Is it work?"

"No."

"Then it's us."

"No."

"Brian--" He hated it when Brian shut him out, it made him want to throw a Gus-sized temper tantrum.

"Okay, so it is work," he lied. "But there's nothing I can do, there's nothing you can do so..." So why talk about it?

"Why didn't you say?"

 _Because it's not the reason I can't talk to you._ But he continued with the convenient lie. "Because things haven't exactly been easy since I got promoted."

Justin shrugged. "But we can deal with it. Most of it anyway."

God, he was so trusting. _And all I'm doing is lying to him._ "I know. And I promise I won't think about it anymore tonight." And he wouldn't. Least not in the way Justin meant. Work was a problem, because his job had brought him in contact with Kenneth and Kenneth had definitely proved to be a trial. One that he'd failed miserably. _I should tell him._

He had believed, right up until the moment Justin touched him, that he could resist the temptation and tell the truth. But in that instant, as Justin unzipped his trousers and reached in to take hold of him, his resolve diminished until it was reduced to a niggling feeling that was quickly supplanted by the more urgent need to take Justin in his arms and carry him to the bed and make love to him. Just as he was sliding into Justin, he hesitated, but the teen cupped his cheek and urged him come deeper and he did with no other thought than to please the both of them.

With each thrust, Justin caught his breath until he must expel it, which he did in a low, drawn-out moan that skipped up and down Brian's spine so that he shivered and plunged the depth of Justin's quaking body. The teen grabbed his hair and pulled his head down to kiss, panting in his mouth as he drew closer to his orgasm. A spasm went through him and he cried out, the sound lost in Brian's throat. Hands still entwined in his lover's hair, still uttering small cries, Justin climaxed, his cum splattering their bellies. Releasing Brian's head, he lay quivering as the man continued to drive his cock into his hole. Eyes shut, spent, half out of his mind with pleasure, he could only manage the faintest of sounds, the simplest of encouragements, but they were enough and soon Brian shuddered and came as well.

After Justin had fallen asleep, Brian lay awake, guilt keeping him from his rest. He should have told Justin. That thought continued to plague him past midnight when he finally closed his eyes and slipped under. 

 

It had begun with the rain, their meeting Sebastian, and had ended with them standing around his grave with a few other mourners, shocked by his sudden demise, grateful that they'd met him when they had.

That day, when they'd come upon his shop, had been the first day in months that they'd spent together, all day, doing nothing, just hanging out the way they had in Europe, exploring the neighborhood, letting their curiosity guide them. A bear of an ad campaign and guilt had kept Brian late at the office on more than one occasion. And even though he sensed Justin's growing impatience with it, he could not find the courage to tell him the truth.

So, instead, he'd wooed him with memories of Europe, trying vainly to recapture a moment that had gone, never to return. Even though they'd made love and seemed to have been magically transported back to their hotel room in Paris, he'd known that in the morning they'd find themselves in Pitts once more and with Pitts came the job and the lies and he'd lain awake long after Justin had fallen asleep.

After Sebastian's death, after receiving the package he'd sent them and the pictures, he'd vowed to do better by Justin, to keep his promise to him that theirs was the greatest fucking love story ever. But even the best intentions sometimes lead to despair and it was with great pain that he found himself sitting alone on a bench by the river. Lost.

Mikey found him and joined him. "Justin thinks you're at work."

"Yeah."

"But I knew you weren't cause I stopped by there."

"Obviously."

"So why are you lying to the Boy Wonder?"

Brian leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Seems to be all I can do lately."

"What the fuck is going on with you?" He thought everything was fine between them. They'd returned from Europe happier than they'd ever been, the shadows gone from Brian's eyes. Now, they were back again.

"I went to the baths while I was out in LA."

"What?" Michael shook his head. "Brian... "

"It wasn't like that."

"Then how was it? You and Justin exchanged rings for Christ's sake. What the-- What are you doing?"

"Kenneth came after me. I didn't know what else to do." But weeks of telling himself now made that excuse sound feeble even to him.

"Than to hit the baths? What's that? The out of the frying pan and into the fire defense? Ever heard of going to the movies? Or the gym? Jesus fucking Christ, Brian, why can't you act like a normal human being?" He hadn't meant to be so harsh but Brian could make him angry like no one else. Maybe because he never knew someone with so much potential. For good or evil.

"Normal human beings don't fuck up?"

"They don’t turn to fucking as the answer to all their problems!"

"I know I was wrong."

"Well, whoopee. Now what? You're lying to Justin and then what? What are you going to do when he decides to drop by the office one weekend when you're supposed to be working and you're not there? What are you going to tell him?" Did he never think about the consequences?

"I want to tell him about LA."

"You want to fuck up your relationship, that it?"

"No--"

"What else do you think is gonna happen? You tell him, you can kiss him good-bye. And I don't know if I'd blame him." Which wasn't true, he'd take Brian's part irregardless because they were best friends, right or wrong. It was just that sometimes he wished Brian would do right instead of wrong.

"So it's okay that he had a fucking affair with Xavier but I can't go out tricking once?"

"I didn't say that. But how many times are you planning to use the Xavier card? You're gonna run out of freebies and then what?"

"There won't be a next time."

"So you say."

"Goddamn right I say. Who else can?"

"Exactly. No one. And Justin's supposed to believe you why? Because you say so? Because you made some bullshit promise to him? Until the next business trip or the next time you're feeling stressed out? And he's supposed to just roll over and let it happen?"

"I thought you were supposed to be my friend."

"I am your friend, you fuckin idiot, and I'm telling you you're gonna fuck this up and you're never gonna have another chance to be happy." Because no matter what Justin had done to Brian in the past, Michael believed that Brian's best chance and probably only chance to be happy lay with the teenager.

"We can work it out."

"You tell him and it's over, Brian."

"So I lie to him?"

It amazed him to hear himself replying, "If you want to keep him you will."

"Mikey... It's eating me up inside."

"Tough shit."

He started to speak but he was unable to form the thought. A tear welled up in his eye.

"Brian? What is it?"

"He was what I always thought I'd wanted." Without explaining who, he knew Michael understood. "Strong, good-looking, rich, smart... Now I know how Justin must have felt, meeting Xavier. It crosses your mind. What if. What if things had been different? What if I wasn't with Justin? Then what?"

"But you are with Justin." He had the ring to prove it.

"So I left. Because I knew he was coming back and I didn't know if I could turn him down again."

"You could have gone walking in the park or--"

"I know. But I didn't. Cause that's not me. So I lie instead. I lie about LA and every time we make love I lie about having been monogamous."

"You two doing it raw?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. You were careful--"

"Always."

"Still... " Mistakes happened, life was unpredictable.

"Always," he repeated even more firmly because he couldn’t allow himself to even think about that, about the possibility that he was putting Justin's life in danger. By that slender thread, his sanity hung.

"I know that it's hard, lying to Justin but, Brian, if you tell him, you're gonna lose him."

_But if I don't, I may lose myself._

The top of Justin's head was visible over the arm of the sofa and the television was on. At the sound of the door closing, he sat up and turned and smiled. "You're home early."

"Thought you'd be at the studio."

"Took the evening off."

So as not to alarm the teen, Brian kissed him as he usually did, then changed clothes and rejoined him.

"You wanna order in tonight?"

"Justin..." He sat at the other end of the couch, not looking at his partner. "We need to talk."

More bad news about work. _How much more time can he spend at the office without moving in there? thought Justin._ With effort, he said nothing. No matter what, he'd deal, it's what he'd promised and he'd keep his word. 

Risking a glance at the teenager, Brian turned away again.

Justin began to feel scared. If it was just work, Brian would have said. It had to be something else, something worse but what? Why wouldn't he just say it?

He could tell Justin was getting anxious and that only made it harder to say the words. More than anything he wanted to take it all back, walk back out the door and come in again, no news to tell, just kiss his lover hello and go on with their lives. But that wasn't possible now. He was too far down the path. He'd chosen it, out of all the possible ways to take, and it was too late to go back and choose another. Twice he started to speak and couldn't.

He was trembling and he wanted to fill his ears with wax to keep from hearing whatever it was that Brian was going to tell him because he knew now, knew by the way Brian had hesitated, that it was going to be bad, whatever it was, and his stomach had knotted up and he wished he had the strength in his legs to run away but he didn't.

"I... I lied when I said nothing happened on the trip to LA."

 _No, not Kenneth._ He couldn't find his voice. It had fled along with his hope.

"Kenneth made it clear that he wanted me but I said no. I turned him down."

For a split second he felt relieved but then he realized that there was more.

"But I was scared, Justin. Cause I knew he'd be back. He's not the kind of guy to give up. Not when he wants something."

Justin clenched the chair arm. Had Kenneth contacted Brian back in Pitts? Was that what this was all about?

"I couldn’t stay in the room, not waiting for him to show up, not knowing... " and he stopped because Justin didn't want to hear that, didn't want to hear any of it. "So I went out."

And Justin froze.

"I went to the baths."

He found himself on his feet and he didn't know where he'd found the strength.

"Baby--"

He crossed to the door and opened it and walked out.

 

These things he did on automatic pilot: walked downstairs, hailed a cab, and gave the man an address. He wasn't even sure whose he'd given until they pulled into his mom's neighborhood. Paying the driver, he approached the front door and paused. Looked around in a daze. An hour ago he'd been in the loft, home, waiting for his partner and now he was standing outside his mom's townhouse, tears running down his face, shivering, wanting to sit down on the steps and cry until he was hoarse, until he didn't care how much his heart ached. Sniffling, he wiped his face on his sleeve and knocked. Waited, wondering what he'd say to Jennifer, how to explain his appearance, how to explain that once again he and Brian had failed.

Opening the door, Jenn took one look at him and pulled him in, hugging him tight. 

 

It had been half an hour since Justin had left, time enough for him to have gotten to his mom's or Deb's or the Munchers'. Out of all the possible places he might have gone, the most likely was Jenn's so he dialed her first. Heard her answer.

"It's Brian. Is Justin there?"

"He doesn't want to talk to you."

"I just... I just wanted to know he was safe." He severed the connection before she could say something hurtful, her back up, wanting to protect her son. Although he deserved it, he didn't think he could face it, so he hung up before she had a chance to speak again. He hung up and sat on the floor by the sofa, laid his head upon the seat cushions and wept. 

 

Although he refused the tea she'd brought, Jennifer sat it by him anyway, hoping he'd drink it before it got cold. He'd been shivering but she knew it wasn't from the slight chill in the air. "Wanna tell me what happened?" He shook his head. "Might help to talk about it."

"How did you know it was over? Between you and Dad?"

"I just did. We both knew. We'd known for a long time. It wasn't any one thing. It was an accumulation of problems. Honey, you and Brian are just starting out."

"We're not gonna make it," he said and he began to cry again, hiding his face, ashamed of his tears, and heart sore.

Sitting next to him, Jennifer slipped her arm about his shoulders. "It's not over yet."

But she didn't know and deep down inside he did, he knew that there was no point in going on because there'd only be another crisis and another and another. There'd always be something to forgive, some careless gesture, some thoughtless action on Brian's part, and he couldn’t do it anymore. He was tired, so tired, and all he wanted to do was to sleep, undisturbed, for a hundred years. 

 

It was a clear night and he had an unobstructed view of the moon. Low in the sky. Big, yellow autumn moon. He and Justin had gone walking one night in early September on Liberty Avenue. Just walked down the street, hand in hand, while trying to remember rhymes and bits of poetry about the moon. _I see the moon and the moon sees me…_

He cast a shadow in the moonlight, in the otherwise dark apartment. He'd shut off all the lights and stood before the window, staring up at the moon. He'd wanted to hide from himself in the dark. But the moon was so bright that as he turned from the window he caught a glimpse of his shadow, grotesque, furtive, scurrying to hide from prying eyes. He turned back to the window and drew the curtains, dampening some of the moon's light and, like a blind man in an unfamiliar place, made his way clumsily to bed.

But he could not sleep, afraid to dream of shadows. 

 

A night's sleep had not been enough. Especially as he'd tossed and turned most of it, lying in an unfamiliar bed, missing Brian. It used to be that he'd have bad dreams and Brian would wake and hold him. Now Brian was the cause of those dreams.

At breakfast, Molly asked, "Where's Brian?"

"Home."

"Why'd you sleep here last night?"

"Molly, eat your breakfast," Jenn told her. "The bus'll be here soon."

"Are you and Brian getting a divorce?"

"Molly," Jenn said in a tone that left no doubt in the little girl's mind that her mother meant business. After she'd gulped down the last of her juice, she ran and grabbed her lunch and her bookbag and dashed from the house to meet her friends at the corner.

"What about you? You going to class today?"

"Mom..."

"I know you're an adult now but you're still my son. I don't want this to affect your life."

"How can it not affect my life? Mom, this is my life. Brian was my life." He lifted his cup of coffee and put it back down, untasted. "I need to go ho... to the loft to get some things. Can I borrow the car?"

"Won't Brian be there?"

"He'll be at work. Nothing's more important than that." Yet, having said that, perversely, he knew Brian would be there. Just to spite him, just to prove him wrong. But he'd already been proven wrong because he had believed, after their experiences with Xavier, that the last thing either of them would do would be to endanger their relationship.

Unaware of his mom watching him, Justin toyed with the ring on this finger. 

 

From the moment he heard Justin's key in the door his heart began to race. He'd stayed home, postponed an important meeting because he'd known/prayed that Justin would return for his things. He had no doubt in his mind that Justin did not intend to stay but he hoped to have a chance to talk to him, to try and explain what had happened. Only it seemed like an impossible task because he wasn't quite sure if he knew what had occurred in LA except that he'd been a fool.

Making himself get up slowly and stand by the back of the sofa, he waited for Justin to enter the apartment.

Brian was there, he'd seen the Jeep outside and had walked as slowly as he could up the stairs, trying to strengthen his resolve. He'd get his things and go, no talking, no explanations, he'd just grab his stuff and leave because there was no point in talking. He couldn’t trust Brian, that much was clear, and he was sick of being a fool, of believing lie after lie. And, yet, he wanted, more than anything, to be able to believe him. He wanted to come home. As angry as he was with Brian, all he wanted was one good reason to come back. And he was afraid, so very afraid that he'd see Brian and settle for less than the truth, that he would settle for whatever Brian decided to tell him and he knew that doing so would be wrong. And still. . .

Seeing him standing there by the sofa in his bare feet and jeans and a tank top... comfortable, the way they had been with each other once upon a time. All gone. They wore each other uneasily now.

Justin was wearing the same clothes he'd left in even though Brian knew there were clothes of his still at his mom's place. Maybe that meant. . . nothing. Just that it was easier to get up and put on the same thing than to go digging through boxes. He wanted to speak but he didn't know what to say, didn't know how much Justin would stay to hear, and he didn't want to drive him away. Even this impasse was better than having him leave again.

As Brian didn't seem to be making an effort to speak, Justin did. "I came to get some of my things," he said and any hope Brian had had was dashed.

"Justin-- "

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to get some clothes and my school stuff. That's all."

"We can't not talk about it."

"The time for talking was when you were in LA fucking around."

"I wasn't--"

"It's too late! And I'm tired." He hadn't intended to go on but the words poured forth in a torrent of anger and pain and disappointment. "I'm tired of believing that things could be different. That you could be different. You made all these promises to me and they didn't meant anything."

"That's not--"

"All you ever did was lie to me. Every time you touched me, it was a lie, Brian. How could you... ? I believed you. I believed in you. But it didn't mean anything because all you care about is yourself. Lindsay, Michael, Deb, Mel, they all warned me but I wouldn’t listen. I thought... I thought I could make a difference, I thought I could love you enough, give you enough... but I can't. Because it'll never be enough for you. You always want more. You want it all, everything, and you never leave me anything, you never give me anything, not one fucking thing. But I have to give and give and give and I can't do it anymore. I don’t have anything else to give, Brian." He shook his head and started past Brian but the man stopped him.

"Listen to me."

"No!" Justin pulled away. "No more. Save it for somebody who gives a shit." He hadn't intended to say so much, to go so far but he couldn't stop himself and he hoped Brian would just back off before they went too far and there was no place else for them to go. But Brian, being Brian, couldn't let go.

"So what are you saying? That it's over?"

"Brian--"

He reached for Justin again and once more the teen moved out of reach. "Justin...?"

"Leave me alone."

"No." Brian moved closer. "Are you saying it’s over?"

"You haven't left me a lot of options," he replied and he took a step backwards because, suddenly, he realized that they had come to the end of the path and they had to decide, he had to decide what to do. He looked away from Brian, then back at him and saw a tear run along side his nose and over his lips and he wanted... he wanted-- Justin turned aside and asked softly, "Why? Why did you do it? Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you... " and he walked away before Brian could answer because it didn't matter what Brian said. When the man didn't follow, Justin got out his carry-on bag that he'd taken to Europe and packed; gathered his books and supplies, and put everything by the door.

"I love you," Brian said in the quiet of the room.

And Justin paused in lifting his portfolio over his shoulder. "It's not enough." Putting his things down again, he went back to where Brian still stood. "I think," and he took a quick breath, "I think I should... " He twisted his ring. "I should give this back," and he started to pull it from his finger.

Brian saw the motion. "No. I won't take it."

"Brian--"

"I gave you that ring--"

"Then I'll leave it!" he threatened because the pain, fuck, the pain was too much.

"Then you do that," Brian replied. "But I'm not taking it back. And I'm not giving up on us. No matter what. I can't. Because I don't have anything else."

Justin raged. "Fuck you. Fuck you!" he yelled and snatched up his belongings and stormed from the loft, his bags banging against the metal door.

Closing it behind him, Brian slumped to the floor and drew up his knees and cradled his head against his folded arms. 

 

 _Pride can stand a thousand trials  
The strong will never fall   
But watching stars without you   
My soul cried. Heaving heart is full of pain   
Oh, oh, the aching…_ 1

The sun shifted and the shadow of the column fell across him where he still sat upon the floor, unable to summon the strength or the will to get up. He continued to shake although the tears had long since stopped flowing. The pain had gone beyond tears, had become embedded in his bones, and the aching set his teeth on edge. He could barely breathe and he wished with all his heart that he could just fade away. 

 

_Touch me deep, pure and true  
Gift to me forever…_

He slipped the ring from his fingers and read the words etched on the inside, "Forever faithful, Brian," and he sobbed and let the metal band fall to the bed. Brian had slipped it on his finger less than a year ago. He had looked so handsome, like a prince out of a fairy tale. His very own Prince Charming.

_Where are you now?  
Where are you now?_

On the tallboy sat a picture of them taken in Paris, on the streets of Montmartre, arms about one another, eyes only for each other, the briefest of moments captured on film.

_Cause I'm, oh I'm kissing you  
I'm kissing you, oh. _

"Don't tell me," Rennie said when Justin trudged into the room, "you were so worn out from fucking that you couldn't make it to class yesterday."

"No," he said softly and took his seat.

Xavier looked over at him, scoping out the bags under his eyes and the redness. "Something wrong, J?" Then he noticed it: Justin wasn't wearing his commitment band. Xavier snagged Rennie's attention and nodded towards Justin's right hand. Her eyes widened but she said nothing. "J?"

"No. Nothing's wrong."

The other two teens let it go. There was no point bringing it up if he didn't want to talk about it.

But halfway through class Justin's hand began to shake and he put down his chalk and sat there staring down at his lap. Professor Martine came over and asked if he was all right and he told her he'd gotten a cramp in his hand but neither Xavier nor Rennie bought that excuse at all. Still, they bided their time.

The moment Justin tried to ditch them at lunch, they pounced.

"You lose your ring?" Xavier asked and Justin flinched.

"Leave it alone."

"And what if I don't?"

"Why the fuck should you care?" Justin asked angrily.

"Maybe cause you're my friend."

"Yeah," chimed in Rennie.

"It's none of your business."

Xavier brushed his arm. "Maybe not, but I'm making it my business. What's up with you and Brian?"

Justin moved out of reach. "Maybe nothing would be up if you hadn't come along."

"Whoa. What the fuck--"

"Leave me alone," and Justin pushed past both of his stunned friends.

"Where did that come from?" Rennie asked. "I thought you were cool again."

Xavier shrugged. "Guess not."

"Wonder what's going on with him and Brian?"

"Ain't good, no matter what it is. J never took off his ring. Never." Not even while they were making love. "Shit. So much for a quiet semester."

"And you thought it would be? The Boy Wonder and His Big and Badness? Those two are bigger drama queens than Erica Kane."

"Word," laughed Xavier. "Fuck. Guess I better go get in it."

"Brave or stupid," declared Rennie.

"Neither one. J's my friend. I can't leave him hanging like that."

Justin knew it was Xavier by the sound of his footsteps outside the door and he wished him away. He didn't want to talk about it, especially with Xavier. "Go away," he said as his friend entered the studio.

"Not until you tell me what's up."

"Then I'll go," and Justin started to leave but Xavier caught hold of his arm. "Let me go."

"No." Justin pulled but he couldn't escape Xavier's grip. "You gotta try harder than that, little boy."

"Don't call me that," Justin said and he shoved at Xavier and broke his hold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Everything!" yelled Justin. "Everything is fucked! But why should you care? You've got Trey and your fairy tale romance so why don't you leave me alone? Go plan your fucking three month anniversary or something."

"Your one year anniversary is coming up soon."

Justin cut his eyes at his friend and then he slumped on his stool and covered his face. Risking contact, Xavier put an arm around him. At first, Justin resisted and then he let Xavier hold him as he cried.

"It'll be okay, J. I promise."

"It'll never be. Never again. Never."

After he had cried for a while, Justin stood with his back to Xavier and wiped his face.

"So what happened?"

"Brian went to LA on business and went out tricking. At the baths." He laughed.

"What?"

"Maybe I should have picked you instead." Xavier didn't laugh. "But then you wouldn't have met the love of your life."

"Who said Trey was the love of my life? Maybe some of us aren't looking for that. Maybe the most we can ask for is to have someone for as long as we can, no promises about the future, just for right now."

"That how it is with you two?"

"That's all it can be with me one place and him in another. If it grows into something more, then it does. And if it doesn't, so be it. We had fun. We made each other happy for a while. It's all I can ask for."

Justin's face fell. "Sounds so easy. Nothing's ever easy with me and Brian. I wish... I wish I could walk away without feeling like I've left half my life behind with him. But I can't. But I can't keep going through crisis after crisis and dealing with problem after fucking problem. I need a rest, Xavier. I want..." He breathed through a sob. "I feel like I've been holding my breath for the past six months, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Scared all the time, trying to pretend that I wasn't, trying to be strong for him because it was my fault, because I was the one who fucked up, who drove him to it."

Confused, Xavier asked, "Drove him to what?" Justin shook his head. "J?"

"He tried to kill himself. Because of us. He was so close, Xavier. And I was so scared." Xavier embraced him again.

"You can't keep paying for that, J. You know?"

"I want my life back. And it just keeps slipping away, the harder I try to hold on. My hands are fucking raw and I'm tired. I'm just so tired."

They walked to a nearby park and sat beneath the trees, the bark against their backs.

"I know you're hurting, but he loves you, J, more than anything. You can just leave that behind?"

"I can't trust him. Now that he's been made partner, he'll be traveling a lot and I can't wonder every single time he goes out of town what he's doing, who he's with. I can't. He lied to me for weeks, didn't say a word. And he knew what it meant for us. I just don't..."

"It must have been hard for him. To trust you again after what happened." Justin looked up. "We lied to him. Even though you told him what was going on, we were wrong. We should have never been together, not while you and he were still together. And it had to hurt like hell for him to get over the shit we put him through. But he did. Because he loves you."

"So I hurt him, now it's okay for him to hurt me?"

"No. He shouldn't have done it and once he had, he should have told you right away or kept his fuckin mouth shut."

"Lie to me?"

"Would you have known if he hadn't told you?"

"No but--"

"And everything would have been fine. But he told you. He came clean and he admitted he'd made a mistake."

"So I oughta forgive him?"

"Fuck no, crucify his ass. You don't need him. You can find somebody else just like that." Snapped his fingers. "Someone who won't lie to you, who won't cheat on you, won't put you through all these changes, who'll be the perfect husband, and you can live happily ever after."

"I'm not asking for that."

"Then what are you asking for? Guarantees? They only come on bags of Cheetos. People don't come with guarantees. Or warning labels." Cause if they did, both Brian and Justin would have come with huge ones.

"He really hurt me, Xavier."

"I know, you know, and he knows. Now what?"

"Nana Rose tell you that?"

"Every fuckin day until I started to act like I had some sense. Until I got my ass out of bed and out of that apartment and remembered I had a life before I met you and I still had a life." And then I found Trey. "Wasn't gone do me no good to lie around crying about it, about how I had been done wrong. Like I hadn't done a thing. Like I was a victim."

Justin knew what it was like to be a victim, to feel locked inside a role that kept you from being who you were. He had refused to be one. And Brian had helped. "Last year the trial had just started."

"I remember." The beginning of their troubles. Which had begun with a kiss as well.

"I used to wake up from these nightmares. And Brian would always be there." He rubbed his hands together, acutely aware of his missing ring. "Maybe it's time I dealt with my own demons." 

 

Without really intending to, he flipped on the intercom. "Yeah?"

"Dada, let in."

"Let me in," whispered Lindsay.

"Let me in," the baby repeated.

He was, to Brian's chagrin, talking better every day. And talking more. He buzzed them through and opened the door. Heard Gus in the elevator before they reached his floor. As soon as Lindz raised the door, he raced out and ran to his daddy.

"Dada!"

Brian caught him up. "Hey."

"Miss you."

"I missed you too," and they exchanged kisses.

"Wouldn't know it," Lindsay said, coming inside behind them. "You haven't been around all week."

"You know why."

"Dada, where Jusin?"

"He's not here."

"Jusin work?" Gus knew work as that was the reason why Mama was gone so much. Mommy had told him.

"Yeah." Brian put him down and took off his coat. Freed, Gus reached for the remote.

"Gus--" Lindz started but Brian said, "Justin showed him how." And, sure enough, Gus turned on the TV and handed Brian the remote so Brian could put it on channel 3 and cut the VCR on. Then he gave the remote back to Gus and watched as the toddler went to the cabinet and got out his tape, the one marked "Gus" in big red letters.

Lindsay looked on in amazement. "Justin?"

Brian nodded. Gus had put the tape in the VCR and pushed the play button. Sat in one of the chairs. "That way we could get a little 'us' time in." He looked away. "Not a problem anymore."

"I thought Justin might come around to see Gus but he hasn't. He misses him too."

"Guess you were right. To worry. Should have known I'd fuck it up somehow."

"Bri--"

"It's been almost a week and I think I'm going out of my mind."

She neared him, touched his arm gently. "Bri..."

He sniffled and attempted one of his shit eating grins but it fell apart at the corners. "I didn't mean to say that. I don't want you to worry."

"I am worried. Bri, have you talked to Drew?"

"Before I told Justin, yeah."

"Not since?" He shook his head. "Why not?"

"No point." He laughed, remembering an earlier conversation. "Unless he's got some magic beans."

"I don't like it, you being here alone."

"I'll be fine, Lindsay."

"I don't believe you."

"You shouldn't. I lie, you know."

Gus, apparently tired of watching his tape, brought Brian the remote and he cut off the VCR and the television, handed the control back to the toddler who put it in its usual place on the coffee table and ran back to his daddy and grabbed his leg, wanting to be picked up. "Dada. Where Pooh?" he asked again, as if Brian hadn't understood that Jusin and Pooh were the same person.

"He's not here," Brian explained once more.

"Where?" he asked and his lip began to tremble. He wanted Pooh.

"Gus," and Brian went to hand him to Lindsay but Gus wouldn't let him.

"No!" So Brian kept him and Gus said quite firmly, "Call Pooh."

"I can't."

"Call Pooh."

"Gus..." Already he could feel the tears. How could he explain it to Gus when he couldn't even explain it to himself? So he gave in. Justin would probably be in the studio now. Dialing his cell, he waited for the teen to answer.

"Hello?"

"Justin."

"What do you want?"

"Gus wanted to talk to you. Hold on." He handed the phone to the baby. "Here. Talk to Pooh."

"Jusin."

"Hey, Gus."

"Hey. Where you?"

"I'm at school. Remember? Remember when you came to see the pictures?"

"Yeah."

"That's where I am."

"Come home."

Justin paused. "I can't, Gus."

"Come later?" Later was what they told him when he couldn't do what he wanted now.

Justin said nothing.

Gus said softly, "Miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Come home." He was more insistent this time.

"I've got to go, okay? Okay? Say bye-bye."

"Bye-bye, Jusin."

"I love you."

"Luv you." Gus gave the phone to his daddy. "Pooh say bye-bye."

Brian held the phone for a moment before putting it down.

"Bri?"

He gave her Gus and walked away.

Picking up the baby's jacket, she got him back into it. "Say bye-bye to Dada, Gus."

"No!"

"Gus, we have to go."

"Stay."

"No, you can't. Not today."

"Dada!"

Brian said nothing. He couldn't. He could hardly breathe. Somehow Lindsay managed to convince Gus that he couldn't stay with his daddy. Brian didn't pay attention to how. He only surfaced from his thoughts long enough to say goodbye and to watch them leave. Yet, after they were gone, he was immediately overcome by the feeling of being alone. He could hear himself breathing in the empty room. _Is this what you wanted?_ he asked himself. Aloud, he replied, "No." What he wanted was Justin, back in his life. Hearing his voice on the phone, he'd wanted to beg him to come back but he'd known that the teen wouldn't. Not yet. If ever. 

Maybe it was time to call Drew. 

 

Justin held his cell in his hand long after Gus had gone. He wanted to call Brian. He wanted to throw the phone away. He wanted to go home. He wanted never to go back.

Putting the phone into his bag, he grabbed his stuff and left the studio. He would get no further work done tonight.

Instead of going directly home, he took a detour on Liberty Avenue. Since school had started, he'd cut back on his hours at the diner and he hardly ever just walked down the street anymore, nowhere to go, just wandering. But he felt like it tonight. He guessed, as he passed the door and poked his head inside, having seen that Brian wasn't there, that he'd have to increase his hours again. Brian hadn't wanted him to fall behind on his work and had, subsequently, talked him into letting him pay for more and more of their living expenses, not that Justin had been contributing much to the household outside of groceries and buying his own art supplies and clothes. Eventually, he supposed, Brian would have begun paying for those things as well. Not that he would have minded, Brian seemed to feel it was his obligation to do so, his right, maybe, as the eldest of them, as the one with the career and the partnership and the money. But it had made Justin feel, sometimes, like a trophy wife, like all he contributed to their relationship was himself. Which Brian had told him on many occasions was enough. Now he knew that it hadn't been.

Moving down the street, hoping he wouldn't run into Deb or the guys out for a night on the town, Justin stopped in a record store. The new Beck CD had been out for a few months and he'd heard that it was supposed to be the best yet. He liked Beck, the way he could make any kind of music his own. He definitely had his own voice, his own vision, but he was willing to experiment. Just like him. Although he'd started out sketching on paper, he'd learned to like sculpture and painting and computer animation as well.

He picked up one version of the CD (there were four different covers) and flipped it over to read the track listings. A sales guy passed by. "Hope you're in a good mood."

"Why?"

"It's good but he was majorly bummed when he wrote it. Every song is about breaking up or being alone."

Probably not the wisest purchase he could make given his present circumstances but what the hell, nothing was going to cheer him up and he couldn't imagine a CD bringing him down any lower than he already was.

Successfully repelling a Molly attack when he got home, he barracaded himself in his room and put on his headphones.

 _"It's only lies I'm living  
It's only tears that I'm crying   
It's only you that I'm losing   
Guess I'm doing fine"_ 2

Justin removed the headphones and cut off the CD player. Like ants, tears marched down his face.

Cracking his door, Molly peeped in. "Justin--"

"Get out!" he yelled and shut his eyes but the song stayed in his head.

He wanted to go home. 

 

"Tell me about Kenneth."

"What about him?"

"What's he like?"

"He likes me," joked Brian.

"Touche."

"He's a biochemist. Believes in better living through chemistry."

"A man after your own heart," teased Drew who was well aware of Brian's frequent dalliances with drugs of all shapes and sizes.

"After my ass." He fidgeted in his chair. "Why are we talking about Kenneth?"

"He seems to be important to you."

"He's not."

"He's a client."

"So's Old Pitt but we don't talk about them."

"You don't have a personal relationship with them."

"I don't have one with Kenneth either."

"You're more than just acquaintances."

Brian picked at the crease in his slacks. "He said that he wanted to be friends."

"How do you feel about that?"

"We have a lot in common."

"You and Justin didn't."

"Not at first," he admitted.

"Does Kenneth excite you?" Brian avoided his eyes. "Brian, answer the question."

"How is this helping me get Justin back?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Why do you think I'm here? I don't have a vested interest in seeing you buy a new boat, if that's why you think I'm handing over my hard-earned money."

"Does Kenneth Harris excite you?"

"I don't want Kenneth. If I did, I'd be with him. And it'd probably be a hell of a lot easier."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because I love Justin. No matter how hard it is, he's the one I want."

"What do you think it's going to take? To get him back?"

"A fuckin' miracle." He went to the window. There was a pigeon on the ledge, balanced on a strip of concrete no more than an inch thick. "I wanted to fuck him," he confessed, with his back still to Drew.

"How did that make you feel?"

"Angry."

"Why?"

"Because it wasn't supposed to be like that. You put on the ring, you say the words, and you make a life together, and it's supposed to be easier than this."

"Why'd you think that?"

"I used to watch my old man leave the house and we all knew he was going out to fuck around. And I told myself that I'd never be like him. That I'd never settle down but if I did, I'd do it right, I wouldn't screw around and pretend to be something I wasn't. I wouldn't say the words and not mean what I said. But maybe I'm just like him. Maybe there's no difference."

"You think he ever thought about what he was doing?"

"I don't know." The pigeon flew away and Brian returned to his seat. "And it's too late to ask him." 

 

She watched him climb the steps up from the garage and lean against the counter. He looked thin, thinner than usual. A little haggard. "Are you hungry?" He shook his head. Hair needed a trim. "I'm sorry about Justin." He'd called her and told her since she had planned to come over and have Justin show her a graphics program on his computer. She was thinking about getting one. Joanie Kinney, computer geek. For her new hobby/business.

"My fault," he said.

He hadn't spared her or himself the details, telling her about his mistake. At first she'd felt a little uncomfortable, knowing intimate details about his sex life but it was who he was and if she wanted to accept him, she'd have to accept all of him, including the fact that he slept with men, with men other than Justin. "Do you think he's coming back?"

"Why should he? There's nothing binding us together, no vows, no ceremony, no law, no license, nothing."

"He loves you," she said, taking out a head of lettuce and salad fixings from the fridge.

Brian pushed off from the counter and picked up an apple from the basket on the table. Tossed it a couple of times then held it. "Did Pop ever talk about... you know?"

"His outside interests?" She busied herself with the salad. "No."

"Do you think he felt guilty?"

"He was brought up in the Church. I'm sure, at first, he did. In time... it didn't bother him anymore."

"What about you?"

"I tried to tell myself that it wasn't about me. That it was about him and something missing from him. But, even so, I thought maybe if I were better, somehow I could fill that need, that ache, that emptiness inside him."

 _"I thought I could make a difference, I thought I could love you enough, give you enough… but I can't."_ Justin's words came back to him and he winced.

"Brian..." He looked up. "Let me fix you something to eat. You'll feel better."

So he sat at the table and waited for his mom to feed him. 

 

Knocking once, Mikey slid open the door and came in to find the loft shrouded in semi-darkness. One lamp lit the livingroom and the blue neon light was on but they were barely enough to guide him to the bedroom where he hoped to find Brian. He was there, sitting in bed, smoking a joint. Michael could smell the sickly sweet odor.

"Hey."

His eyes barely registered his friend's presence. "Hey."

"You wanna go out? We were thinking- -"

"Not really."

Michael sat at his feet. "Might be good for you."

"Doubt it." Leaning over, he offered Mikey a hit, which he declined. "Suit yourself. I need it more."

"You don't need it at all."

"I'll be the judge of that." But he put it out in an ashtray and smiled. "You were right. You told me it would happen and it did."

He'd shifted gears but Michael understood the reference. "I'm sorry. You gonna be okay?"

"No." He made a fist of each hand to keep from reaching for the joint.

Sliding closer, Michael asked, "You still seeing Drew?"

"He told me the same thing you did. That I would lose Justin if I told him about LA." Brian paused and picked up the cigarette. Held it unlit. "But I had to, Mikey. Every time I touched him, I felt like I was lying to him. And I was." He put the joint back down again. A minor victory.

"Maybe he just needs time to think about it."

"About what? How I lied to him? How I broke our vows? How I disappointed him? Again." Miserable, Brian shut his eyes but instead of darkness, he saw Justin.

"He still loves you."

Remembering Justin's words to him, Brian said, "It's not enough."

"You don’t believe that."

"He does. He wanted to give back his ring."

Not having known the extent of their problems, Michael began to worry. "And Dr. Drew didn't have any advice?"

"He said I should. . . He says I shouldn't give up. But I don't know what else to do."

"Have faith."

Brian smiled sadly. "Justin is the only person who's ever given me any hope."

"Then have faith in him."

"You didn't see his face." He could. It seemed always to be in sight. A look of profound weariness in his blue eyes.

"You don't think he's coming back, do you?"

"I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't. So I don't think about it." He picked up the doobie and lit it. "And this helps."

Michael watched him, unable to offer any other comfort. 

 

The week seemed as long as an eon and by the end of it, Brian felt as if he was as inured as stone. Sluggish. Cold. Ossified by his grief. There seemed to be a layer of grey between him and the world. Everything and everyone seemed dim. 

 

Apparently he hadn't heard so Ryder repeated his question. "Brian, do you think you could keep our clients entertained this weekend?"

"What?" He blinked, realized he'd been wandering.

The other partners looked at him worriedly. "Our clients. Could you take them around this weekend? Show them a good time?"

"No," he replied, shuddering inwardly. The last thing he wanted was to have to baby-sit clients. Not now, now when so much was wrong.

"Other plans?"

"Not in the mood," he said, hoping the matter would be closed but he knew that his answer hadn't met with their approval by the way their faces shut down.

Ryder spoke. "They're important clients."

"I can't."

"I know it's short notice but we all have to make sacrifices sometimes for the good of the firm."

Angrily, Brian asked, "How many more sacrifices am I supposed to make?" He stood, not caring if the meeting was over or not. He had to get away from them, had to be alone. Striding from the room, he hurried to his office and closed the door. Sat at his desk and bowed his head. The door opened. It would be Ryder, wanting to know what in the hell that had been about.

"It's business. I know that it's inconvenient but Justin will understand if you explain it to him."

"Justin's gone," he said softly.

"Gone?"

"He left me," he explained. "Thanks to my trip to LA."

Ryder didn't understand. "But that was over a month ago."

"There's no statute of limitations on fuck-ups," laughed Brian. Then he added, "It wasn't the conference. It was me."

"Brian. . . "

"I don't want to talk about it." He looked up. "And I don't want to entertain any clients."

Nodding, Marty acquiesced. "I'm sorry."

Brian waited until the door closed behind Ryder and then he buried his face in his hands. 

 

Waiting at the end of the sidewalk, he waved as he saw her car turn the corner. He stepped to the side as she parked, then opened her door. They came together in a tight embrace. "I missed you," he said as he held her.

She parted from him. "What's going on? Why are you at your mom's place? And where's Brian?"

Jenn had taken Molly to the mall and the movies so they had the entire house to themselves for a couple of hours. Seated on the livingroom sofa, Justin told her what had happened. "Remember that conference Brian went to in LA?"

"Yeah?"

"He went to the baths, Daph. He went to the baths and fucked some stranger."

Daphne's eyes widened in disbelief. "No."

"Yeah." Justin wiped his eyes, even now it was hard to talk about. "And he lied to me about it. For over a month, he didn't say anything."

"So why'd he tell you?"

Justin lowered his eyes. "We went back to doing it raw and he felt guilty, I guess, that he hadn't kept his part of the bargain."

"How long have you been at your mom's?"

"Almost two weeks."

"You're not going back?" she asked, then noticed that he wasn't wearing his ring. Daphne reached for his hand, took it and held it. "Justin. . .?" He said nothing. 

 

That night they met Xavier and Rennie at Rennie's room for pizza. Her other two suitemates had gone away for the weekend. "Well, it's official, they're a couple," she said. "And everything was going so great."

"What's the big deal?" Xavier asked. "So they're fucking? So what?"

"So what happens when they break up?" she asked and then bit her lip. Justin was staring at the floor. "Sorry, Boy Wonder."

He shrugged. "It happens. Maybe you ought to start looking for new roommates."

For a while no one said anything and then Daphne suggested that they go out and whoop it up. "Hit the clubs, do a little dancing."

"We can go to Babylon," Rennie suggested. At Xavier and Daphne's shocked looks, she said, "Maybe he won't be there."

"And if he is?" asked Xavier.

"We'll ignore him. It's a big place."

As Daphne was about to object for his sake, Justin spoke up. "Let's do it. Fuck him." 

 

You could have walked from the door to the stage on the heads and shoulders of all the people in Babylon and never have seen the floor. With difficulty, the four coeds staked a claim to a bit of space on the upper level and danced together, exchanging partners until they'd all paired off at one time or the other with every other person in their group. The girls giggled as they did the bump and grind trying to outdo the guys who had gotten down and dirty just for the hell of it, Justin up against a wall with one leg thrown over Xavier's hip as they ground their groins together, not meaning anything by it, just playing, but quickly play turned to something else and they broke apart, flushed, Justin trembling. And then he saw him. Brian.

Standing next to the bar below looking lost, none of his former confidence or cockiness in evidence tonight. Still beautiful but looking wasted, not drugged out or drunk, but thin, dissipated. Although his eyes were on the dance floor Justin could tell that he was paying little if any attention to the men in front of him. His eyes seemed opaque. Then some twink approached him and said something to him. Brian moved away from the bar and the young man followed.

Justin turned to his friends who hadn't seen what he had. "Let's go."

"What's wrong?" asked Daphne.

For a long time he was silent, then he said, "Nothing." If Brian had forgotten him that quickly, then so be it. There was no reason he should be miserable. "Nothing's wrong. Wanna dance?" 

 

But that night as he lay in bed he couldn't get the image of Brian with the twink out of his mind and he wanted to call him, wake him and demand that he explain himself. And then he opened the drawer of the nightstand by his bed and took out his ring. The band he no longer wore. He made to put it back on his finger and stopped. Nothing had changed. Putting it back in the drawer, he cut out the lamp and put on his headphones.

 _"Press my face up to the window  
To see how warm it is inside   
See the things that I've been missing   
Missing all this time…"_ 3 

The trick had followed him outside where he told him to get lost, not wanting any company, having left his friends in order to be alone. Now, he sat in the middle of his bed with his ring in his hand, wondering if he should put it aside. But he couldn't. Sliding it back on his finger, he pulled the sheet over him and shut his eyes against the soft neon light. 

 

Xavier answered his cell. "Hello?" He half-expected it to be Justin but it wasn't. It was Daphne.

"We need to talk."

"About what?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. _What time was it?_

"What's the deal with you and Justin? I thought he said you had a boyfriend."

"I do."

"Then what was tonight about?"

"Us having fun."

"And that's all?"

"That's all."

"I don't want to see him hurt."

"Then talk to your boy, Brian."

Silence. "Maybe I will." 

"Maybe you should mind your own business," Brian told her when she showed up at his place bright and early Sunday morning on her way out of town. Luckily for her he'd slipped on his robe before answering the door. He remembered her reaction the first time she'd seen his goods. The first time Justin had come to live with him.

"Don’t you love him anymore?" she asked.

Angrily, he turned to her, "What do you think?"

She could see the pain in his eyes. "Then talk to him."

"And say what that I haven't already said?"

"Then say it again. Until he listens to you. If you want him back, you'll talk to him, make him understand." She punched him in the arm.

"Ow."

"It's your fault and you better get him back."

He rubbed his arm. "Princeton's made you mean."

"You have no idea." Then she smiled and got up on her tiptoes, and kissed him. "Call him."

After she had gone he sat staring at the phone. What more could he say to Justin except that he was sorry, that he'd made a mistake, and that he loved him? But Justin knew all that. She was wrong. It was up to Justin to decide where he wanted to be and with whom.

He had never felt more helpless, not even when he'd held Justin in his arms, bleeding in that parking garage a year and a half ago. 

 

Another week had begun with no better prospects than the last. Work, which had once upon a short time ago, given him so much pleasure, ceased to satisfy him. He attended to his duties with a decided lack of enthusiasm however well he performed his tasks. Never having been one to laugh openly frequently, even his wry grins had become rare. He had become as grim as granite stone. Cynthia tried to nudge him out of his mood but even she conceded at last, certain that Justin was the only person who could return Brian to himself. And Justin had gone. 

 

The intercom buzzed and he answered, expecting Cynthia to forward some call to him and he was shocked to hear her say, "Kenneth Harris is here."

Wanting to send him away, he couldn't. The other partners would hang him out to dry if he offended one of their biggest clients. "Yeah." And he waited.

Kenneth's appearance was a blow to his already fragile emotional state. He could barely meet the man's eyes as he walked through the door. But even a brief glimpse was enough to tell him that Harris hadn't changed, that he was still as desirable as ever, and that he still desired Brian. It would take but a word and Kenneth would give him anything he wanted. Except Justin.

"Brian. . ." He paused behind a chair. Brian looked haggard, tired. What had happened?

"What brings you to Pittsburgh?"

"I had business in New York. Thought I'd take you up on your offer and stop by. Have dinner maybe. With you and Justin," he added, just in case there was any confusion regarding his motives.

"Can't," Brian answered.

"I know it's short notice but--"

"Justin left me." He walked over to the window, stood with his back to Harris.

"I'm sorry. Was it--"

"I told him what happened. And he left." Brian touched the glass with his palm.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have pushed."

Brian laughed bitterly. "No one forced me to go to the baths."

"If I hadn't come onto you, you wouldn't have gone."

"Believe me, there's enough blame to go around." He laid his forehead against the window, so tired. Closed his eyes. Heard Kenneth move, then felt his hand on his shoulder. He tensed, drew away.

"I didn't mean anything." The man regarded him warily and Kenneth regretted his hasty gesture. "I know that you love him."

"I... I think you should go."

Kenneth hesitated. "Brian..." This wasn't the time but when would be the right time? Never, he decided. Circumstances had conspired to bring him within reach of the one thing that he wanted, the one thing he'd never have: Brian. "I hope things work out for you." He swallowed. It had been hard to say that. He glanced at Brian, saw the skepticism in his eyes, and chuckled. "It's the truth. I want you to be happy. I think you'd be happy with me but..." The ad exec laughed. "I'm not stupid. I know when I'm not wanted."

And Brian was grateful for the lie. He made himself walk to where Kenneth now stood. Touched his arm lightly. "Maybe next time we could have dinner. Talk."

Risking it, Kenneth kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be back." With that he left. 

 

Empty again. He closed the door of the loft and stood in the doorway. Having refused Kenneth's offer of dinner and company, he faced the prospect of another night alone. He looked around the apartment. Dark. Lonely. Justin's belongings scattered about, the things he hadn't taken with him. Brian placed a hand on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. He should eat, he hadn't had anything all day except a couple cups of coffee and half a pastry that Cynthia had forced on him. There were probably Tupperware canisters in the freezer. He could find something. A bowl of soup, a plate of jambalaya- -

He jerked. Hearing Justin drop the bowl of salad on the floor, startled by his sudden appearance. Felt the man next to him. Hotlanta, his tee-shirt had said.

 _"It's always better the second day,"_ Justin had said over dinner the next night, after he'd taken the boy back into his home, his life.

He'd served grilled polenta the first night Justin had spent with him after leaving the hospital. The first time they'd made love after the bashing. He remembered holding Justin's hand across the table, his heart racing, terrified because so much had changed between them. . .

Having changed clothes, he found that his appetite had grown and yet he was loathe to take anything out, to be faced with eating alone. He could have gone with Kenneth, could have, at least, shared one night with someone, anyone.

But he wanted Justin.

He wanted to sit at the counter watching the teen cook. Wanted to play footsies beneath the table as they ate. Make love after they'd cleaned up.

Taking out an unmarked container from the freezer, Brian didn't bother to open it to see what it was. He just popped it into the microwave and pressed the thaw button. Whatever it was, he'd eat it. Or not. He didn't really care.

It turned out to be white bean soup. Justin had gotten the recipe in Florence, from the owner of a tiny restaurant not far from their hotel. The Tuscan had sworn Justin to secrecy, never to reveal the recipe for fear that some other chef might usurp it.

They had occupied a corner table, lit by candlelight, sharing a plate of bruschetta drizzled with olive oil, spooning the delicious soup from their bowls until they struck bottom.

He raised his spoon to his lips and paused. His hand shook. Soup spilled over the edge of his silverware. He put the spoon down and shaded his eyes with his hand. Rubbed his forehead. Tears slipped down his face.

All of the meals they had ever taken together came back to haunt him. To remind him of his loneliness. He wrapped his arms about his waist and sat bowed over his plate. Salty tears dropped down into his soup.

Pushing away from the table, he went into the kitchen and opened the bottle of Beam. No glass needed. He'd drink it from the bottle, drink it all, until the pain went away. Turning it up to his lips, he stopped. So he'd drink himself into oblivion and then what? When the alcohol wore off, Justin would still be gone. And he'd only have another and another and another night alone to face. A lifetime of empty evenings.

He took the bottle to the sink and poured the liquor into the basin. As the clear liquid gurgled down the drain, he wept. When it was empty, he opened the trash can and threw it inside. Got another bottle from the counter, opened it, and drained it as well. Into the trash can. And another. Another. All the while crying, hoping to purge himself of his need, of his sorrow.

Hands shaking, he opened the Vodka and began to pour. Justin. . . He stopped. It would only take one drink, one sip to forget. "No," he whispered and he threw the bottle against the wall of the alcove. It burst against the brick, splattering the framed picture of himself that Justin had drawn. A piece of glass slid to a halt near the column by his feet. He picked it up, held it in his hand. It would be so easy and then the pain would be over.

"No," he breathed, squeezing the glass in his fist. The edges bit into his palm and he winced, dropping the shard. Blood pooled in his hand across his lifeline. 

 

Drew took in the bandage around his hand. "What happened?"

"Cut it."

"Doing what?"

"Recycling. Throwing out some old bottles."

His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. His eyes were dull and Drew thought he'd never seen him look worse. "Have you seen Justin since our last session?"

"No."

"Talk to him?"

"No."

"You look a little tired. Been sleeping okay?"

"Not really."

"How are you otherwise?"

"Not so good," he said quietly.

Brian hadn't looked at him since coming into the room. "What do you mean by that?" The man said nothing. "Brian?"

"It's getting harder."

"What is?"

"Finding a reason to get up in the morning."

Fearful, Drew told him, "I want you to call me. If you can't find a reason. You understand? Call me." He nodded. "Brian?" He looked up finally. "How did you cut your hand?"

"I was throwing out some old bottles," he repeated.

"How bad is it?" Not the cut. Least not the one that had been bandaged.

"Not as bad as before." He swallowed. "Not yet."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I just feel. . . I miss him so much."

"I know."

"I know that I was wrong but. . . I thought. . . No matter what, we could work it out. We could fix it."

"Brian, I don’t want you to lose hope but. . . Maybe we need to talk about what to do in case Justin doesn't come back."

"I don't think he is," Brian said softly.

"How does that make you feel?"

"Like I don't have any reason to go on." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have said that."  
 _  
"Why not?"_

_"Because I'm gonna end up in the nuthouse."_

_"Should you be?"_

_"You're the shrink."_

_"I think you're stronger than that."_

_"I was. With Justin."_

_"I don't like the thought of you being alone."_

_"Fact of life."_

_"What about your friends? You could spend some time with them. With Lindsay. I'm sure your son would love that."_

_"Isn't that running away from the truth?"_

_"Which is?"_

_"That I am alone."_

_"You're not alone."_

_"It's my home. Even if he's not there. It's where I belong."_

_"You call me. Any time. And I'll come and we'll talk it out."_

_"Doc. . ."_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Thanks. It would have been harder, without you."_

Drew cut off the tape recorder and sat deep in thought. 

He'd never been completely comfortable in Drew's office which had nothing to do with Drew and everything to do with the psychiatrist his mom had taken him to when he'd first come out to her. He liked Drew. Trusted him. And he hadn't been surprised when the therapist had called him to schedule an appointment.

"So, how are you?" Drew asked.

"Fine."

"Better than I expected then."

"Not so good."

The truth. "You want to tell me about it?"

Knowing that Brian had told Drew the entire sorry tale and knowing that what Drew wanted was his take on things, Justin gave him the condensed version. "So I left," he said. "I'm tired of him lying to me. I can't trust him. I can't believe anything he says."

"Is that completely true?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you he loved you?"

"Yes."

"And you don't believe him?"

"I do but- -" He rubbed at his eyes. "We met this man, he ran an antique shop. He died last month. He and his partner had been together since World War II."

"And they never argued?"

"He said they did but. . . How many times am I supposed to forgive him?"

"How much do you love him?"

"No! This isn't my fault!"

"I didn't say it was."

"I thought. . . I thought we would be together forever."

"Then you don't have any intention of going back?"

A tear rolled down Justin's cheek and he rubbed the finger his missing ring would have encircled. "I don't see how I can."

"Do you want to go back?"

"Yes!" He turned away.

"Then you can," Drew told him.

"How?"

"You have to believe in him again. You have to trust him. There's no going back without that."

Justin lowered his eyes. Then there was no going back and the ring would remain where it was, in a box in his drawer by the bed. 

 

Mel screwed the back on her earring. "Thanks, baby, for doing this on such short notice but our regular sitter bailed and Bri--" She smiled awkwardly. "Thanks."

"I don't mind." He perched on the edge of the sofa with Gus drawing at his feet. The baby had been overjoyed to see him, had sung his name for a solid minute before settling down. It was the first time he'd seen him since splitting with Brian and he'd been just as thrilled to see the toddler. Over the past two weeks he hadn't let himself really acknowledge how much he'd missed him for fear of losing it but, now, with Gus playing below him, he felt as if he'd never be able to let him go, he loved the little boy so much.

"Honey!" Mel called. "You ready?" They were about five minutes away from being late for an executive dinner at the Gay and Lesbian Center.

"Coming!"

"We won't be long. Probably be back before Gus goes to sleep."

"Okay."

Lindsay bopped down the steps with her shoe in her hand. Stopped at the bottom to slip it on. "Ready."

Giving both boys kisses, the two women sped from the house.

The first thing on the agenda was dinner. Neither one of them had eaten. With the toddler in tow, dragging Beh behind him, Justin went to see what he could find.

"Okay, Gus, do you want a hot dog or a hamburger?"

"Burga," he replied.

"Burger it is." Like Brian, Gus was content to watch Justin cook, perched in his high chair with Beh, far from the stove and the dangers of splattering oil.

"How about some French Fries?"

Gus clapped. "Fries." He loved them, just like his daddy.

As he cooked, he became aware of Gus staring at him. Turned and faced a pair of beautiful hazel eyes, so like his daddy's.

"Jusin, where Dada?" Because Dada belonged where Jusin was.

"I don't know."

"Work?"

"Probably."

Justin had just finished cutting up Gus' burger and fries into bite-sized pieces when someone knocked at the door. He lifted Gus from his chair and went to investigate.

He'd expected to see Lindsay or Mel and when the door opened to reveal Justin, Brian wished he'd chosen another night to visit. His heart felt as if it'd been pierced through to his back.

"Dada!" shouted Gus. Dada and Pooh.

Picking him up, focusing his attention on the baby, Brian tried to figure out a way to leave gracefully. "Hey, Sonny Boy." They kissed and Gus giggled cause Brian hadn't shaved and his beard tickled.

Justin wanted to run his fingers over Brian's face. He remembered how his whiskers had felt, rubbing against his belly as they'd made love some mornings before Brian had had a chance to shave, and he had giggled like Gus before his laughter turned to sighs of pleasure. "We were about to eat."

"I'll go."

"No!" That was Gus. "Dada, eat."

"Gus--"

"There's enough," Justin told him. "Besides, I don’t think Gus is gonna let you go."

The baby tugged on Brian's arm and pointed to the table. "Eat."

"Okay. I'll eat."

So they ate, the two men saying very little to one another, Gus babbling to them both, oblivious to any change between them. Once or twice Gus reached over to touch Brian's face, fascinated by the bristly hair. Justin had to look down at his plate, wishing he were touching Brian instead.

Brian stole a glimpse at him while the teen was unaware. Justin wasn't wearing his ring. Brian tightened his jaw, determined not to say anything about it, to get through dinner and go home and lick his wounds. Still, he couldn't remain completely silent. "You've lost weight," he said, as an excuse for having studied Justin.

The teenager looked up. Locked eyes with him. "So have you."

"Not much of a cook."

Justin looked away, remembering meals Brian had cooked for him. They'd been wonderful.

After dinner Gus made Brian come into the livingroom and look at his picture.

"That's very good," Brian told him. "What is it? Is it a horse?"

"No."

"A dog?"

"No." Gus giggled. Dada was being silly.

"A cat?"

"No. Dada." Gus pointed to the biggest blob on the page. "Dada."

Suddenly Brian understood. "That's me?"

"Yeah."

Brian pointed to a smaller blob. "Who's that?"

"Jusin."

He pointed to the smallest figure. "Who's that?"

"Me."

Dada, Jusin, and Gus. Their little family. Destroyed. By him. Brian gave Gus the paper and stood. It was time to go. He couldn't stay any longer. It was too hard. He shouldn't have to do this.

The door opened and in came Mel and Lindsay.

"Bri?" Lindsay asked.

"I'm gonna go," he replied.

"Dada, no."

Lifting the little boy, Brian bestowed a kiss upon him. "It's time for you to go to bed."

"Go with you."

"You can't. Not tonight."

"I want go."

"Not tonight. 'kay? 'kay?" Gus nodded sadly and kissed his daddy again. "Nite nite."

"Nite nite."

Justin took the baby as he reached for him and kissed him, was kissed in return. "Nite nite."

"Nite nite, Jusin."

With one last wave Gus allowed Mel to take him upstairs for his bath.

"Justin," said Lindsay, picking up her keys, "I'll take you home."

"I can do it," Brian offered.

"It's..." she began. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Night."

She walked them to the door. "Night. Justin, thanks again."

"Any time." He hung back for a moment watching Brian stride towards the Jeep.

"This okay with you?"

He paused. "Yeah. It's fine. Night."

Brian had the engine started by the time Justin opened the passenger door and got in. "You need to stop anywhere?"

"No. Thanks."

Why aren't you wearing your ring? he wanted to ask but he didn't. He said nothing the entire trip. Neither did Justin. They rode in silence, not eight inches apart, but they might as well have been on opposite ends of the earth. At last, Brian pulled up to Jenn's house.

"Thanks for the lift."

"No problem."

"Night."

Brian took a breath, then exhaled. "Night." He watched Justin walk up to the front door and push it open, disappear inside. At the last moment, before the door closed, Brian thought he saw Justin turn but he couldn’t be sure because by then his vision was a tad blurry. He gripped the steering wheel and waited for the haziness to clear, then drove off.

The empty loft greeted him with a silence deeper than that which had accompanied him and Justin. He could have filled it with screams but he didn't.

Keeping his mind purposely blank, he dropped off his clothes and crawled into bed. Turned the light off and lay awake in the darkness.

Justin had taken off his ring.

He touched the band still around his finger. He'd taken his off once and since then had sworn never to do so again.

What did it mean that Justin had stopped wearing his?

Of course he knew what it meant. He just didn't want to say. Not even to himself.

_It's over._

The thought drove him from bed. He couldn't lie there alone with that running around his skull. He sat on the sofa trying to keep his mind blank but he couldn't.

_It's over._

Justin wasn't coming back. He had moved on. Brian tried to keep the image of Xavier and Justin from surfacing in his thoughts but he couldn’t. What if it were true? What if Justin had gone to Xavier and they were together now? And did it really matter? For whatever reason, Justin obviously considered their partnership dissolved. He would never have taken off his commitment band otherwise.

So it was over. Justin had made his choice.

He had choices as well. He could pursue Justin in the hopes of persuading him to change his mind.

He could take off his own ring and call it quits as well. And go on, knowing they'd never be together again.

Or he could end it all. He was not afraid to die, it was living that scared him. Living without Justin.

There were still things that belonged to Justin in the loft. That they'd carried up in boxes, them and their friends. How would it feel to watch him carry them away?

He wouldn’t have to face it if he wasn't there. It'd be simple. He could take a handful of sleeping pills and lie down alone. Never again have to feel lost or abandoned, confused, angry.

Never play with Gus again or hear him giggle as he stroked his daddy's beard. Never hear him shriek with mock fear when Brian pretended to be a gruff grizzly bear. Never feel his soft face against his skin when the toddler lay in his arms sleeping.

Brian ran a hand over his chin, covered his face.

He wanted to see Gus off on his first day of kindergarten, wanted to see him in school plays, and football games. He wanted the opportunity to be a better father than his old man had been. Even if it meant doing it alone. He'd imagined Justin doing those things with him.

Now, he'd have to let go of that dream, prepare himself for a very different future. 

 

He found the letter waiting for him when he got home. Stuck in the box with the other stamped mail. But it hadn't come via the Post Office. There was no stamp. Just his name scrawled across the outside of a plain envelope. In Brian's hand. He took it inside and carried it to his room. Sat on the bed and opened it.

_Justin,_

_Here are all the things I couldn't say to you. Not because I didn’t want to but because we're not talking anymore. I miss talking to you, the way you always tried to listen, no matter what. Even if you didn't always understand what I was trying to say. I miss listening to you talk. About school, about art, about everything and anything, even if it sometimes seemed as if maybe I wasn't listening to you. I was. It made me feel alive, that you could get excited about just walking down a half-empty street in Paris or even Pittsburgh. It didn't matter. Because you could see the beauty in most things. Even in me. I've had hundreds of guys tell me that I'm beautiful but you were the only one who ever made me feel beautiful. Beautiful enough to be with you. You are the most beautiful person I know, that I've ever known. I know that I should have told you that more often and I didn't. There were so many things I didn't do. Not from a lack of love or of caring but because I'm careless. I should have told you every day how much I loved you, how much I needed you, wanted you. My only excuse is that I thought you knew. I thought you knew that you were the reason I lived. You saved my life. In more ways than one. I feel like I was only half-alive when I met you. You gave me back my life. I had given it away so long ago and you gave it back to me. I could never have been a good father to Gus without you. I would never have been able to be a son again to my mom if it hadn't been for you. You gave me my family and yours too. You gave me the world. You gave me London and Rome and Paris. And Pittsburgh. You gave me my home. You made it a home. But most of all, best of all, you gave me yourself. Even though I said I didn't want you at first, you knew that was a lie and you never let me forget how much I wanted you. You fought for us when I didn't seem to care. Even after everyone around you told you it was impossible, you never gave up. And when I thought I had lost you, when I didn't know if you'd live the night, you found the strength to come back to me. Not to leave me behind missing you. You gave me your love and your strength and I'm grateful to you. When I didn't want to go on, you were there to hold me, to tell me that no matter what, you were strong enough to face it. I'll never forget that._

_I can't ask you to come back. I know that I've hurt you. I just wanted you to know that I love you, that I'm thankful for the time we had together, and that I'll always be there for you, whenever you need me, and I'll always love you. Always._

_Brian. ___

__It had been hard, listening to the other people on the floor talking about their holiday plans when he had none. Lindsay had asked him to come over on Thursday but he'd refused. He couldn’t face them, face his friends and family having thrown away his life They would be understanding, pitying, and, worst, disappointed although they'd be careful not to show it. He had failed. As they had all expected. Sniffling, he stuffed his papers in his briefcase and shut it. He would work and the day would pass and he wouldn't notice the emptiness, the silence._ _

__"You spending Thanksgiving with Gus or your mom?" asked Cynthia, coming in to check on him._ _

__"No." Although Joanie had asked as well._ _

__Debating whether or not to get into it, she decided to push forward. "You should. Holidays are for family."_ _

__"Not this year."_ _

__"Things could change."_ _

__He snickered bitterly. "I don't believe in the Easter Bunny either."_ _

__"Then come have Thanksgiving with me."_ _

__"You're going to your mom's," he reminded her. She went there every year._ _

__"Not this year. I'm staying home and having dinner by myself. Come over and we can watch the parade and--"_ _

__"You're a worse liar than me." Smiled. "Thanks. But I really want to be alone."_ _

__She touched his arm. "No, you don't."_ _

__"Told you I'm a terrible liar."_ _

__"Boss--"_ _

__"Go on. Go home and pack. If you haven't already."_ _

__"It's done."_ _

__"Too damn efficient."_ _

__Cynthia kissed him on the cheek. "See ya Monday?"_ _

__"Have a good trip." He watched as she went to grab her purse and go. They were the last people left in the executive suite. Ryder had gone home at noon, he and Liz making the trip to his parents' home this year. They alternated holidays between their two sets of parents._ _

__He looked around the office. This was what he'd worked so hard for. And he'd give it up in a minute if he could--_ _

__No. There was no point in thinking like that. Justin was gone. Life went on._ _

__

__It was the day before Thanksgiving and he was alone. Last year he and Justin had picked up Gus after getting out of court, spent the evening watching old movies and laughing._ _

__He curled up on the couch and tried to think of something else but he couldn’t. All he could do was remember how happy they had been last year. Even though they'd been in the middle of Chris Hobbs' trial, they'd gone through it together. They'd made love on this very couch Thanksgiving morning while Gus had slept, had lain wrapped about one another, cooling down, catching their breath, listening for the sound of the baby waking up in case they'd been too loud. But he'd slept on and they'd enjoyed a peaceful half hour afterwards._ _

__Now the loft was quiet. He reached for the remote on the coffee table to turn on the CD player but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood. Closing his eyes, he tried to empty his mind. There was no point in remembering how it had been because it would never be like that again. But he couldn't help remembering, wanting it to be that way once more. Although he'd promised himself that he wouldn’t cry, he began to. Silently._ _

__The phone rang. Lindsay probably, trying to get him to change his mind about coming over but he wouldn't. Why bring everybody else down?_ _

__He let the machine pick up. Expected to hear Lindz's voice and heard Gus' instead._ _

__"Hey, Dada. Me home. Where you? Where Jusin? Dada? Dada?"_ _

__Brian stood to turn it off because this was worse than having to listen to Lindz._ _

__"Dada, come here."_ _

__And whether he meant come to the phone or come to the house, Brian didn't know._ _

__Gus waited. Then breathed heavily into the phone. "Dada... luv you. 'kay? Bye-bye." And the phone clicked._ _

__Wiping away the tears, he stood in indecision for a moment, his chest swelling from the ache. He wanted to get out of his skin, wanted to be someone else, someone who hadn't fucked up his life and driven away the most important person in his life, the person who made it possible for him to be with everyone else. Without Justin, he didn't know if he could be Gus' dad or Joanie's son or anything at all. He wrapped his arms about his middle to confine the pain but he couldn't. And he couldn't stay in the loft, not alone, not with himself, not with these memories of Justin haunting him. He had to go._ _

__It was cold out so he grabbed his coat first, then his keys, and put the matter of where he was going out of his mind. He'd figure that out when he got there._ _

__He tore open the door and looked up._ _

__There stood Justin. The teen spoke softly. "Where are you going?" But Brian couldn't answer. His throat had closed up and he was terrified that at any moment he'd start to bawl like Gus. So he shook his head. "Then why don’t you stay home," Justin said. Brian couldn't meet his eyes. "With me."_ _

__Tears ran down his cheeks. Justin was here. As if afraid that it was only a dream, Brian hesitated to touch him, but Justin took him in his arms and held him, the both of them trembling. "I love you," the teen said and Brian sobbed. "I love you."_ _

___Oh I'll ride farther than I should  
Harder than I could   
Just to meet you there..._ _ _

___How could this love  
Ever changing   
Never change the way I feel_ 4 _ _

__They lay together, just holding one another. Justin stroked his cheek. "Don't cry."_ _

__"I'm sorry," he whispered._ _

__"I know. Me too."_ _

__Tightening his arms around the teen, Brian savored the feel of him, the smell of him. He was real and they were together again. "I love you," he said against Justin's skin._ _

__It had been so long. Weeks since they'd made love and yet they were in no hurry, content for the moment just to lie together, hearts reconciling before their bodies remembered the pleasure to be found in one another. They desired safety first, surety, but in the end, all they had was faith. Faith in each other and in themselves, faith in their love. What more was there? What more did they need?_ _

__Justin's lips followed a trail from his breastbone to his jawbone to his lips and they kissed softly at first and then harder as hunger gripped them. Brian could taste Justin on his tongue as it slipped between his lips. He inhaled and filled his lungs with air from Justin's lungs, sharing breath as they shared kisses._ _

__Solid beneath his fingers, beneath his belly and chest was Brian. Hard, warm to the touch and so beautiful. Justin kissed him and said breathlessly, "You're so beautiful," and Brian sighed and closed his eyes as the teen covered him with kisses as sweet, as heady and light as Chianti._ _

__They entwined arms and legs about each other, limbs like grape vines climbing upon one another. Brian felt Justin wet against his thigh and eased the teen onto his back, crawled between his legs and licked the clear bead of precum from the moist tip. He longed to quench his thirst with Justin's cum. Lips sliding down the shaft, he filled his mouth, his throat. Greedily he sucked on Justin until the teen gasped and clenched his hair in his fists and began to thrust upwards, deeper inside Brian, the thick, slick head of his cock bumping the back of Brian's throat. "Ah! Ah!" Justin jerked and flooded Brian's gullet._ _

__Sliding his lips back up Justin's meat, Brian drank his cum and lapped the last few drops as they dripped. He lay with his head upon the teen's belly, his hand still around his swollen cock._ _

__Justin drew him up and kissed him, tasting his juices on his lips and his cock stirred again. Moaning, he spread his thighs and felt Brian's dick nudge his balls. He kissed his throat. "Fuck me," he whispered huskily._ _

__The timbre of his voice sent shivers across Brian's skin. He reached between Justin's cheeks and sought his hole. Found it, warm, tight. He ran the pad of his finger around the edge and felt Justin tense up, then relax. They kissed as he toyed with his hole, massaging the knot of clenched muscles until it seemed to sigh and open around his fingertip. He eased inside and Justin exhaled into his mouth, then sucked on his lips as he was opened up even further by the finger sliding deeper into the close tunnel of his ass._ _

__"Fuck me," he begged Brian. As good as his finger felt, his cock would feel better._ _

__Justin's hole had spread to take two fingers and Brian plied him with a smooth, even motion, feeling Justin's cock stiffen as it was stroked from within each time his fingers brushed his prostate._ _

__"Fuck... me," Justin gasped and he grabbed Brian's arm._ _

__Unable to withdraw his fingers, Brian wiggled them around and Justin cried out. His dick dribbled precum down his belly and Brian's. His balls, hard and high, rubbed against Brian's pubes. He released Brian's arm and lay panting on the bed._ _

__Removing his fingers, Brian thrust his cock up Justin instead._ _

__He met Brian's thrusts, raising his hips, taking every inch of his lover inside him. "Oh," he moaned, so hot, so hard, so hungry for Brian's dick that he squeezed him and held him in place, savoring the fullness in his bowels._ _

__Still deep inside Justin, Brian rocked his hips and light exploded behind his eyelids. The head of his cock rubbed against the walls of Justin's asshole and he bit back a scream. Then, as Justin relaxed his internal hold, he withdrew and plunged inside again, the teen's heels digging into the backs of his thighs, his hands on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin. "Baby..."_ _

__"Yes," Justin panted. Brian slid in and out of him rapidly and each thrust seemed to steal another lung full of air until he was gasping. "Ah!" He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted. Cum shot over his belly onto his chest, streaking his skin. "Brian," he whimpered and lay back, spent._ _

__Brian entered him again and moaned. His breath was hot against Justin's neck as he came inside him, cock sliding through cum as he continued to pump against the teen's ass._ _

__

__They lost count of the number of kisses they shared. Took leave of their senses and let their bodies have free rein. Resting only long enough to gather their strength, they made love through most of the night until their sheets were soaked with sweat and semen and their muscles were sore, stiff, strained from their exertions. They abandoned the bed and rested upon the sofa. Near sunrise, Justin climbed upon Brian's lap, buried his face in his hair and shouted as he came, spurting against Brian's belly, the man's cock spitting inside him._ _

__

__The edge of the counter marked the place where they parted, Justin going into the kitchen to fix breakfast, Brian padding out to the hallway to collect the paper. Reaching for the folded bundle at his feet, he noticed something sticking out of it. A card. Addressed to Justin. Puzzled, he opened it and laughed._ _

__From inside, Justin asked, "What?"_ _

__Brian tossed the paper on the counter and handed Justin the card._ _

__" 'Dear Mr. Taylor, Welcome home. Thomas Bailey, Building Superintendent.' " Justin clapped a hand over his face which had reddened considerably. "He heard us."_ _

__"Heard you."_ _

__"Good grief."_ _

__Brian kissed him. "Mmm." Kissed him again._ _

__"Stop. Before we get another note."_ _

__Brian licked along his jaw line. "I'm hoping for at least two or three more."_ _

__Laughing, Justin let him fling him over his shoulder and carry him back to bed._ _

__

__Although it felt good to lie in Brian's arms, they had places to go. Or, rather, a place. Getting up and crawling over his lover's long, lean body, Justin stood next to the bed and held out his hand. Brian took it and he pulled him up. "Come on, Pookie, we gotta get ready."_ _

__"Don't call me Pookie," Brian grumbled._ _

__"Don't be grouchy, Pookie. Okay?" Justin kissed Brian's shoulder. " 'kay?" They got in the shower and Justin washed his lover's back, the man completely relaxed beneath his hands. "Feel good?"_ _

__"Mmm."_ _

__"That's my Pookie." He ran his palms over Brian's taut buttocks and around his waist to his flat belly. Drew him closer. "I love you."_ _

__Brian turned in his arms and kissed him. "I love you too."_ _

__"Say it again."_ _

__"I love you."_ _

__The water washed them clean._ _

__

__Although the gang kept things lively, they were all painfully aware that two of their number were absent. Gus, most of all, missed Dada and Jusin and it seemed to the adults that he was quieter than normal, sitting in his rocker, hugging Beh to his chest, and singing to himself, "Ta la la," a song that Justin had sung to him, or as close as he remembered. "Ta la la."_ _

__"Poor baby," said Deb. "Maybe you should call, see if he'll come."_ _

__"He won't," Mikey told her. "Once he makes up his mind- -"_ _

__There was a knock at the door. Gus sprang from his chair. "Dada!"_ _

__Lindsay ran after him to see who it was and hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed when it turned out not to be Brian. She pulled back the curtain. "Bri?"_ _

__"Dada!" shouted Gus, reaching for the doorknob. She opened it for him and the toddler jumped up as Brian leaned down. "Dada," he said, happy now that Brian was there._ _

__"I thought you said," she began and then she realized he wasn't alone. "Justin?"_ _

__In the livingroom the others heard her with relief and joy._ _

__Deb crossed herself. "Thank you," she whispered._ _

__The two men came inside and joined the rest of their friends. Gus wouldn't let go of Brian's hand and pulled him towards the table and got a basket of leaves from it. "Look," he told his daddy. "Leefs."_ _

__"Leaves," Brian corrected him._ _

__"Leeves." Gus tugged on his arm. "Come on."_ _

__"Where are we going?"_ _

__"More leeves."_ _

__Surrendering, Brian let him lead him outside._ _

__Inside, Justin was left to satisfy their curiosity. "It was no good without him," he explained._ _

__"Well," Em told him, "he was a wreck without you. I, for one, am glad you're back together. It wasn't pretty. But I always say, true love is like an Armani suit: it lasts forever."_ _

__"Thank you for those pithy words of wisdom, Obi Wannabe," Ted said, rolling his eyes._ _

__"I saw that," Em warned._ _

__

__Gus handed his daddy a leaf. "What color is that?" Brian asked._ _

__"Red."_ _

__"Very good." Gus brought another one. "How about this one? What color is it?" Gus looked at it but he had no answer. "Orange," Brian told him and the toddler giggled. Orange was something to eat. Silly Dada._ _

__

__Michael went to where Justin stood, getting a glass of punch. "I see you're wearing your ring." Brian had told him how Justin had taken it off._ _

__"I never meant to hurt him."_ _

__"Neither did he."_ _

__"I know."_ _

__"Is it for good this time?"_ _

__Justin sensed an undercurrent of anger in Michael's question. "It's for good."_ _

__"Fine." He started to leave but Justin stopped him._ _

__"I mean it," he said._ _

__"Does he believe you?"_ _

__"I think so."_ _

__"Then that's all that matters."_ _

__Having witnessed the exchange, Debbie went to Justin after Michael had gone and hugged him. "It's okay, Sunshine. He'll come around. He loves Brian, that's all. We all do. And we all know that you're what's best for him. No matter what. Just do me a favor, huh?"_ _

__Justin squinted. "What?"_ _

__She popped him on the back of the head. "Don't ever fuckin' scare me like that again." Muttering, "Little asshole," as she walked away._ _

__Vic laughed and Justin knew it really was all right. He'd been forgiven._ _

__

__Seated around the table, she and Mel at either end, their guests arrayed about them, Gus in his high chair next to Brian, Lindsay opened their dinner by saying what she was thankful for this year. As expected, she was thankful for Gus and Mel and for having their friends with them for another Thanksgiving._ _

__All eyes turned to Brian._ _

__Last year he'd joked and everyone had laughed when Justin had kicked him beneath the table. This time he fixed his eyes on his partner seated across from him again and said in a quiet voice, "I'm thankful Justin's come back home. And I'm thankful for him."_ _

__No one spoke. They could see the tears in his eyes and they all looked away, except Justin, to give him the chance to wipe them away. Which he did. And then he said, "And Gus is thankful he's almost potty-trained. Isn't that right, Sonny Boy?" and the toddler nodded vigorously which lightened the mood and they all laughed knowing that was really something Brian was thankful for._ _

__They went around the table, recounting their blessings until it came to Justin. He had studied his plate as the others had spoken and now he looked up, gazed right at Brian as he spoke. "I'm thankful that I didn't lose Brian and that he still loves me." A tear slid down his face. "Thank you."_ _

__Brian reached across the table and took his hand, held it for a moment then released it. When he did so, the light glinted off his ring._ _

__Lindsay thumbed a tear from her own eye. "Well, let's eat."_ _

__"Amen," declared Emmett._ _

__

__Having cleaned his plate, Gus watched the adults eat. When Brian asked if he wanted anything else, he shook his head and held out his arms. So Brian lifted him up and sat him on his lap, the little boy content to rest against his daddy's chest as he finished his meal._ _

__"He's just like you," Deb said, shaking her head._ _

__"He's like a weed," Mel told them. "If he inherits Justin's appetite, we're all in trouble," for the teen, despite the drama of the past few weeks, was busy tucking it away. They laughed as he looked up, cheeks bulging._ _

__"I’m still growing," he explained in his defense._ _

__"Don't talk with your mouth full," Brian scolded._ _

__"Yes, Pookie."_ _

__Silence fell upon the gathering and then they all burst out laughing. All but Brian and Justin._ _

___Oh fuck_ … the teen thought._ _

__"Pookie?" Mel asked. "Fuck," she cackled._ _

__"Mel," said Lindsay with a nod towards Gus who was looking around trying to figure out why everyone was making so much noise and why his daddy's face was red._ _

__"Oh, my word," giggled Em. "Pookie and Pooh. Pee-Pee," and they roared._ _

__"Shut the fuck up," growled Brian, then he shot an angry look at Justin. "You are so not getting any when we get home."_ _

__"That’s the truth," said Mel. "Cause you're taking Mini Me with you tonight so Mommy and Mama can have a little 'us' time. Isn't that right, Mommy?"_ _

__Lindsay blushed and doused her embarrassment with a sip of wine._ _

__Gus nudged Brian. "Dada."_ _

__"What?"_ _

__"I got pee-pee," he said and Brian stood and carried him from the room while the others laughed to bring down the roof._ _

__

__With Gus settled in for the night, Brian and Justin retired to the livingroom where, despite Brian's earlier threats, they proceeded to make out, stopping just short of actually fucking, both of them still too sore from the previous night and this morning. Hard-ons rubbing provocatively together through unzipped pants, they gnawed on each other's lips._ _

__His erection straining for release, Brian had just worked Justin's chinos down around his knees and was about to slip his cock between his thighs when he heard, "Dada."_ _

__Hoping the tot was too sleepy to really notice what was going on, Brian eased his dick back inside his trousers with some difficulty and got up, the front of his slacks tented. He knelt and blocked Justin from Gus' view, giving the teen time to pull his pants up. "What is it?"_ _

__"Come bed."_ _

__"You go back to bed and we'll be there later. Okay?"_ _

__"No. Come bed now."_ _

__"Gus--"_ _

__They went to bed. He and Justin separated by the sleeping toddler. Willing their erections to soften. Thwarted by a two-year-old._ _

__Brian sighed. "We gotta get a new place."_ _

__Turning over onto his left side, Justin mumbled, "Uh-huh."_ _

__Following suit, Brian turned onto his right side and went to sleep, to dream of children's rooms and Gus resting soundly in his own bed._ _

__

__**Songs** _ ****_

_**1 "I'm Kissing You," Des'ree and Tim Atack, Sony/ATV Music Publishing UK Ltd./Westbury Music Ltd./Love Lane Music UK, 1996.** _

_**2 & 3 "Guess I'm Doing Fine," Beck Hansen, Cyanide Breathmint Music/BMG Songs, Inc. (ASCAP), 2002.** _

_**4 "Lonesome Tears," Beck Hansen, Cyanide Breathmint Music/BMG Songs, Inc. (ASCAP), 2002.** _


	11. Autumn Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief coda to "Just in Time"; takes place the day after Thanksgiving.

Upon waking, his first thought was, _Justin_. Checking quickly, he saw that the teen was lying on the other side of Gus and Beh. It was only the second day of their reconciliation and Brian was still a little unnerved by their recent breakup. But Justin was there, asleep. Whereas Gus was not. His hazel eyes were partway open and fixed on his daddy.

Softly, Brian said, "Hey, Sonny Boy," and the toddler crawled into his arms and pillowed his head upon his daddy's chest.

For another ten minutes or so, they lay quiet, both Brian and Gus enjoying the time together. Wordlessly communicating, thoughts piggybacking on pulses; Gus reassured by the strong, steady beat of Brian's heart.

Finally, after a while, the toddler began to squirm, restless now and wanting to get up, and wanting Justin to get up too. He looked over at the sleeping teenager and called him. "Jusin!"

"Shh," Brian told him. "Let Justin sleep."

But Gus' cry had done the trick and Justin stirred and turned over to face them. Knuckled sleep from the corners of his eyes. "Hey."

"Sorry," Brian apologized.

"No. . . it's late anyway."

Gus scrambled over to him and exchanged lipsmacking kisses, his leaving traces of saliva on Justin's cheek, sloppy kisser that Gus was. Brian dispaired of ever teaching him the finer points. "Jusin."

"What?"

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

Gus looked over his shoulder at Brian. "Dada. Jusin."

"I see him." He knew what Gus meant, what he wanted. He wanted Brian to kiss Justin the way he always had when they awoke. What the baby lacked in technique, he made up for in enthusiasm.

"Jusin, Dada," Gus said again, more emphatically.

"Oh, Justin," said Brian, as if he suddenly understood and he leaned over and kissed his partner, then kissed his son which made the toddler smile. He threw back the covers and sat up, reached for Gus and the little boy came to him. "You gotta pee-pee?" Gus nodded. Brian set him down on the floor, then stood and took his hand, led him to the bathroom, and helped him onto the step they'd gotten for him when he'd started potty training. He'd had a little potty of his own at first but had graduated to using a regular toilet to pee in. Lindsay said it would help him if he felt like a big boy. So, Brian had gotten him a little step stool to stand on. Lindz had also said it'd help him if he saw his Dada pee-pee or even if they went together. Hence, Group Pee 101. Even Justin joined in, coming into the bathroom behind them. Flipping the top on the toilet and reaching into his pajama bottoms, Brian said to Gus, "Now watch Dada."

"Wait," Justin said. "I'll get the Cheerios."

"Hurry up," groaned Brian. "I don't know about Gus but I can't hold this much longer."

Somewhere along the way, Lindsay had read that putting Cheerios or Fruit Loops or other small, round foods in the toilet would help Gus improve his aim and to focus on the task at hand, thus decreasing the number of clean-ups, which was high on Brian's list of things not to have to do.

Justin returned with the cereal and tossed in one. "Okay."

"As I was saying," Brian began again, "watch me."

The toddler's eyes followed his daddy's movements as he urinated. Then Brian flushed the commode and unfastened Gus' diaper. Although he did pretty well during the day, they still didn't trust him at night with the training pants. Especially on $200 sheets.

"Okay, it's your turn," and he watched as Gus aimed for the bowl. There was no need for him to hold his penis (as Lindz and Mel insisted they call it, prompting Brian to ask what was wrong with cock?) as it was rather small and pointed straight from his body most of the time. The flow was slow at first but grew stronger and when he was done, he held out his hand for the baby wipes to clean himself and then reached over—with Brian holding him—and pushed the handle down. He clapped at the rewarding whooshing sound.

"Good boy."

Justin praised him too. "Good job." Then Brian helped him down so that Justin could go.

When they were all done, they each washed their face and hands and went into the kitchen, the toddler running ahead in his Pooh night shirt and a clean pair of trainers while the adults hung back and kissed again.

"Morning."

"Morning."

Gus reached for the door handle on the refrigerator. "Dada!"

"What is it? What do you want?"

"Joos."

"Hold on." Brian opened the fridge and got out the orange juice and found Gus' sippy cup with the Rugrats on it. "Come sit down," he told him and Gus climbed into a chair at the table. Once he was given his juice, he drank greedily until most of it was gone. "Good?"

"Good," he replied and Brian poured him a little more.

Meanwhile Justin had gotten the coffee started and came over to survey them regarding breakfast. He squatted down to talk to the toddler. "Okay, Gus, do you want pancakes or cereal?"

"Pancakes."

Good choice," Brian said as he was definitely in favor of steaming hot pancakes slathered in butter and maple syrup versus cold cereal. Yeah, like there was even a choice?

"That your vote too?"

"Uh-huh."

Justin stood. "Pancakes it is." One of his favorites and they always had the fixings on hand.

To tide them over until the flapjacks were ready, Brian peeled and cut an apple into section that he and Gus ate while watching SpongeBob Squarepants.

"So how come the octopus doesn't wear any pants?" Brian asked.

"I don't know," replied Justin. "He just doesn't. But he plays the clarinet."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know! Just let me cook, would you?" he said, exasperated because he had no idea what playing the clarinet had to do with not wearing pants.

Despite being confused by their fashion, Brian enjoyed the show, laughing at it more than Gus who was mainly mesmerized by the colors.

When the pancakes were done, Brian granted special dispensation to have breakfast in the living room in front of the TV so they could watch The Powerpuff Girls.

"Can we not have any white furniture in our new house?" Justin asked.

"What about this stuff?"

"What if it doesn’t go with the house?"

Brian thought about it. "Oh." He'd never really considered the kind of house they'd find. "I guess it's possible."

"So what kind of house were you thinking about?" Maybe, finally, he'd pin Brian down about something regarding the house. He'd been annoyingly circumspect.

"I don't know," Brian answered, lying. He'd always envisioned owning one of those sleek, ultra-modern houses on a cliff overlooking the ocean except there were no ocean views in Pittsburgh. So much for dreams. "What about you?"

"I don't know," Justin answered, lying. He'd always imagined owning an English Tudor house with dark exposed beams in the ceilings and an English garden in the back.

"Well, wherever we move, there's got to be a room for Gus and plenty of space for him to run around in the back yard."

"And we can have barbecues and invite all our friends."

"Moochers, you mean." Then added, "And I'm not barbecuing on a grill. Too fuckin' suburban."

"So when are we going to start looking?" Justin asked, all of the talk about houses getting him excited.

Brian bought himself a little time by finishing off his one sausage link. "Maybe once the new year starts, I won't be so busy at work and we can look at some places."

"We could always have something built," he suggested.

"Take too long."

"Might take just as long to find one we like that's already built," Justin said quite reasonably.

"Guess," conceded Brian.

Justin watched Brian as he ate, feeling that the man wasn't telling him something but not quite suspicious enough to confront him. Whatever it was, if it was anything at all, Brian would eventually tell him. It seemed as if Brian was unable to keep anything from him for long, for good or bad.

"Dada," Gus said, shaking Brian's knee. A milk moustache graced his upper lip.

"Huh?"

"More milk."

He'd given Gus a cup full and he'd already drank it plus the cup and a half of orange juice he'd given him before breakfast. And he'd eaten a quarter of an apple, one sausage link, and a pancake. He'd definitely inherited Justin's appetite. 

 

After breakfast Gus helped them carry the dishes to the kitchen and load the dishwasher and then he stood by and watched as they made the bed, diving beneath the billowing spread and giggling each time Brian and Justin lowered it on top of him. Then he'd squirm from beneath it just in time to evade his daddy's grasp.

But Brian caught him at last. "You think that's funny, little boy?"

"Yeah," laughed Gus. He wriggled until he escaped his Dada and ran shrieking to Justin as Brian growled and did his best bear imitation. "Jusin!"

"You want me to save you from the big, bad, grizzly bear?" The toddler shrieked again and ran in place as Brian continued to come closer, growling steadily. Calmly, Justin waited until he was close, grabbed him, and kissed him, magically transforming the growling bear back into Brian. "Tada!"

"Hey, Sonny Boy," Brian cooed. Safe again, Gus bounced happily and Brian picked him up to get a kiss from the toddler too. "What do you want to do today?"

"Amimals."

"You want to go to see the animals? You want to go to the zoo?"

"Yeah." He loved seeing the lions and tigers. Even the bears. Especially if he had Dada and Jusin to protect him.

"It's a little cold out to go to the zoo," Brian began.

Justin made a suggestion. "What about the Museum of Natural History? They've got dinosaurs—"

"Dinosa!" yelled Gus.

"The museum it is," announced Brian. "But first we gotta shower and I need to shave."

Cupping his face and kissing him again, Justin rubbed his chin with his thumb and told him, "Don't."

Brian raised a brow but said nothing. What did his little boy have in mind? 

 

As they pulled up to the museum, Justin pointed to the dinosaur out front. "Look, Gus. Dinosaur."

"Dinosa."

"Dino-saur," Justin said again, slowly.

"Dinosore," Gus repeated.

"Good. That's very good."

Gus tried out the word again. "Dinosore. Big dinosore."

And Justin agreed. "It's very big. His name is Dippy."

"Dipee."

"That's right. Dippy."

Brian parked and they approached the huge replica of the Diplodocus, the tot keeping between them, close by Brian. Behind it stood another replica, of a T-Rex. It was green with pictures of all kinds of animals painted on it. "What the fuck is that?"

"Don't you remember me telling you about DinoMite Days? Next year, they're gonna have all these painted, fiberglass dinosaurs throughout the city."

"Like the cows."

"Yeah. They sent a notice around to the institute about entering the competition," Justin said and looked to see what Gus was pointing at. "That's a rhinoceros," he told the little boy. Gus' eyes were wide with wonder, first at Dippy and then at the brightly colored T-Rex.

"Did you enter?" Brian asked.

"I'm not much of a painter," Justin replied, shrugging. "Besides, it's kind of hokey."

"Yeah," agreed Brian, "but they'd pay you, wouldn't they?"

"$2,500 I think."

Gus squatted and picked up a leaf, showed it to Brian. "Orange?"

"Orange," Brian confirmed. "Plus your stuff would get seen," he said, continuing his conversation with Justin. "And if you did a good job, who knows? You think I like doing ads for feminine hygiene produts?"

Laughing, Justin shook his head. "But that's different."

"How?"

"It's not—" He stopped himself as he was about to say that it wasn't art.

"You're right, it's not art. But I'm good at it and I try to do the best I can on each job no matter what. And people recognize that," said Brian. "Even if it is only to sell tampons." He held out his hand and Gus came to him. "Let's go see the dinosaurs."

"Dinosores," the toddler replied and he climbed the steps with his daddy beside him and Justin coming up behind them.

The museum was having its annual Gem and Mineral Show and there were a number of people milling about the displays when they entered. So they quickly bypassed that area and went to Dinosaur Hall where they saw the original skeleton for Dippy and a Brontosaurus and a T-Rex. There were other dinosaurs in the hall as well: an Allosaurus, a Stegosaurus, Pterosaurs, and Ichthyosaurs.

When they got to Bonehunters Quarry, all three were issued pairs of goggles and the adults took charge of the chisels while Gus got to use the brush as they chipped away at the rocks to reveal realistic-looking fossils below, the way real paleontologists would.

Since the movie in the Earth Theatre had just started, they sat inside for a while, Gus' eyes glued to the wrap-around screen while thousands of brightly colored fish swam in and out of sunken ships. Brian smiled. It reminded him of diving in the Bahamas among the wreck of The Tears of Allah. He glanced over at Justin and saw him smiling as well, probably remembering that day too. That had been the first time they'd gone on vacation together and it was still special to them.

When Gus got bored with the film, they headed upstairs to Dinosaur Overlook. There Gus smelled prehistoric plants and sat on a nest of dinosaur eggs and giggled, and then Justin read to him from a dinosaur picture book the same way that he read Winnie-the-Pooh to him at home.

The toddler loved the African Wildlife and North American Wildlife exhibits, shrieking with joy and a bit of fright when he saw the huge bears and mountain lions, zebras and warthogs. At his age, so many things were a little scary even when they were fun. He held onto Brian's leg and peeked at the towering wildebeest and massive caribou, glad that his Dada was there and Jusin too.

He ran out of steam though before they could make it to the third floor so Brian and Justin decided to save that part for the next visit and they left the museum, saying bye-bye to Dippy, and went in search of food. 

 

They went to the diner cause Justin knew Deb would be working even though it was the day after Thanksgiving and she'd be glad for the familiar faces, especially Gus. He probably should have been working himself but he'd taken an extra day off in celebration of his having come home. Although things had gone pretty smoothly he knew it'd take more than a few days for them to transition back to the way they'd been.

"Hi, Gus," cried Debbie as they entered. She was always glad to see him.

Still a little worn out from the museum, Gus acted shy and Justin asked him, "Who's that? Don't you remember?"

"Yeah," he answered softly.

"Who's that?"

"Debee."

"That's right."

Gus brightened. "Hey, Debee."

She picked him up and hugged him. "Hey, baby." Kissed him too and he laughed cause her hair was so bright and she always had on such shiny things. "You want something to eat?"

"Yeah."

"How about some meatloaf?" He looked blankly at her. That wasn't a word he knew. "How about some chicken?"

"Chicken." That was familiar. He was hungry and looking forward to eating but he also felt full. He tugged on Brian's arm. "Dada, I got go."

Brian took him from Deb. "Pee-pee?"

Gus shook his head. "Poop."

Grateful that, at least, he wasn't having to change diapers anymore, Brian took him to the bathroom.

As she watched them go, Deb smiled. "God, he looks exactly like Brian at that age."

"His mom showed me some pictures of him at two and he and Gus are identical. Except for the nose. And Gus' hair is a little lighter."

"He's got the eyes and the lips though. And those long legs. Gay or straight, he's gonna be something else." She took out her notepad. "So what do you and Brian want?"

"I'll take the meatloaf and Brian wants a turkey sandwich. Whole wheat—"

"Hold the mayo." How long had she been making turkey sandwiches for him not to know that? Going to put in their orders, she returned and sat with Justin. "What have you boys been doing today?"

"Went to the natural history museum."

"I swear, I would never have thought Brian Kinney would be a good father. Especially with an old man like his. You did that, Sunshine. You and Gus. You helped him change."

Justin disagreed. "I think he's always had this other person inside him. He just needed a reason to let him out."

"Well, you and Gus, you're the reason. And that's more than the rest of us could do." And they had tried. Although she never said so, she knew that she and Michael and Lindsay were the reason Brian could have Justin and Gus. they had made that possible.

Brian returned with Gus, the toddler looking very relieved as did Brian because he hadn't brought any extra training pants in case Gus had an accident. They were getting fewer in number and less frequent as he got better at letting them know when he had to go.

During lunch Brian got a call on his cell from Lindz wanting to know when Gus was coming home. "You want me to bring him now?"

"We're having dinner with Mel's aunt and she wants to see him."

"Fine. We gotta go back to the loft to get his bag and then we'll bring him." He snapped the phone shut, his face suddenly dark.

"We're taking Gus home?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. Lindz has plans for the evening."

All the while Gus watched him as if he understood and Brian wouldn't have been surprised if he did. He was very bright. So Brian relaxed and tried not to fret.

Lunch over, they drove to the loft and Brian and Gus waited in the Jeep while Justin went up and got Gus' stuff including Beh. When he returned with the things, the toddler seemed to realize what it meant and he said quite clearly, "No, Dada. No go."

"Mommy and Mama miss you. Don't you miss them?" asked Brian.

"No," petulantly.

"I bet you do. I bet you do miss Mommy."

Gus couldn't deny it again and so he said instead, "Me stay. Stay here."

But, of course, Brian drove on despite Gus' insistence that he was staying with them and the baby whimpered and held onto Beh.

"It's only going to get worse when he has his own room in our new place," Justin said to Brian.

"I can't help it if we're more fun."

"Don’t say that," Justin said, not wanting to give the baby any negative impressions of his mommies.

"Well…"

"It's because he only sees us once or twice a week. If he saw us every day the way he did them, he wouldn't fight so hard to stay with us," he explained.

Brian tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I can't go by there everyday."

"I know. Me neither." 

 

Despite promising Gus that they'd see him again that weekend, the toddler fussed terribly when Brian and Justin left the house without him, upsetting both men more than they wanted to admit.

"Maybe," Brian said in the car, "I should talk to Lindz and Mel about some kind of joint custody or something."

"Brian, we're not equipped to take care of a kid full-time. We both work, I've got school…"

"He's in daycare until the afternoon. We could get a nanny for the rest of the time when we're not there."

"And still not see him anymore than we probably do now," Justin pointed out.

"He'd be in the same house, at least."

"I don't think Lindz or Mel are gonna go for that." Brian stared out of the windshield at the traffic ahead of them. "I know you hate leaving him. I do too. But we have to do what's best for Gus."

"Fine," he said tightly, conceding the point.

"Brian…"

"I said fine. So I see my kid once a week and watch him cry when I leave."

"I know it's hard but the older he gets, the easier it'll get."

"Yeah," he agreed. "He'll have gotten used to me not being around." Just like my old man.

Justin could almost hear his thoughts, knew he was thinking about his father and how the man had been missing in action most of his childhood but there was nothing he could say to make him feel any better.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Brian fiddling with the radio in between lights before giving up and turning it off. When they pulled in front of their building, he paused for a long moment.

Waiting until they'd gotten inside the apartment, Justin said, "If you want to do this, to try and get joint custody, I'll support you." But it would be difficult since Brian had signed away all of his legal rights to Gus. It would mean coming to some kind of private agreement with the two women.

But Brian replied, "You're right. I can't be a full-time dad to Gus. We're not Ozzie and Harriet. Hell, we're not even Ozzie and Sharon."

"He loves you. You're a great dad."

"I don't want him to think that I don’t care."

"He knows that you care. He knows that you love him."

Brian looked down. "You didn't."

It was the first time either one of them had brought up their recent troubles.

"I did. I was just… angry. But I always knew that you loved me. I never thought that you didn't."

"I'm sorry for what I did." He'd said it before but it seemed to him that he could never say it enough.

"I shouldn’t have left. We should have talked about it and worked it out. I hated not being with you."

"Maybe you were right to leave. Maybe we needed time to think, to be by ourselves for a while."

"All I know is that I'm never going away again. No matter how angry I get. I'll just have to find another way of dealing with it." His eyes sparkled devilishly. "Maybe I'll have to turn you over my knee and punish you."

"Kinky."

Justin rubbed his hand over Brian's face, against the short bristly hairs of his beard. "Mmm… Speaking of which…" 

 

The teen lay spread-eagle on the bed, his body red where Brian had rubbed him with his beard: his nipples, his belly, the side of his neck flushed. The man was stretched between his thighs and he held his cock up by the base as he worked it over with his lips and tongue, rubbing the head over his face in between licks and kisses and deep sucks that hollowed his cheeks. Justin caught his breath and arched his back, slumped to the bed again. He ground his hips into the spread and cupped the back of Brian's head. God, it felt so good, Brian's mouth on him, moving up and down his cock, the head rubbing against the inside of his lover's throat and then against his chin, the difference in texture, in sensation enough to make him cry out. "I love you, I love you..." The muscles in his thighs tightened and he gasped, grabbed a fistful of cover.

Precum wet his beard, his lips, and nose. He sucked and kissed Justin's shaft, feeling the teen's balls swell beneath his hand, feeling his dick swell inside his mouth. Justin slipped free of his hold and rubbed against the underside of his bottom lip and erupted. Cum dripped from Brian's nose and cheek, and from his chin, and he licked his lips and tasted Justin on them. 

 

He exhaled slowly as Brian entered him, taking a deep breath at the end, when Brian was completely inside him. His legs were one across Brian's shoulder and the other around his back and he could hardly move with Brian's body pinning him to the bed but he loved it, loved being immobile, trapped beneath his partner's lunging hips and heaving chest. His leg sliding from Brian's shoulder to wrap around his waist, Justin tightened his muscles, squeezing Brian's cock deep within. The man cried out and lay still while Justin's inner muscles convulsed around him.

Relenting, Justin allowed Brian to withdraw and to turn him over onto his stomach. The teen groaned as he was mounted and fucked, Brian's cock penetrating him with piston-like efficiency.

Brian pulled out of him after a few minutes and rubbed the head of his dick over Justin's swollen hole, the rim puffy and red. The teenager gave a cry and pushed his hips back, swallowing the turgid head and an inch or two of the shaft as well.

His fingers entwined with Justin's as they raced towards a climax, bodies straining against one another, intimately joined, the only sounds in the room their breathing and the wet sound of fucking, of Brian's cock sliding in and out of Justin's hole. Suddenly Brian groaned and jerked against Justin's buttocks. Jerked again and felt his cock spit. He continued to pound the teen until he was spent, continued to thrust into him until Justin moaned and his hole spasmed and clenched Brian's cock. The man reached beneath Justin and grabbed his dick just as he came. Enclosing the head in his fist, Brian milked Justin dry. 

 

His fingers moved with skill, drawing the razor over Brian's face, divesting him of his day's growth of beard. Slowly he covered him from chin to cheek, blazing clear trails through the luxurious lather. When he was done, he slid his hands, still slick with gel, down Brian's belly and griped his cock which had begun to stiffen. From base to tip, he stroked his lover until Brian was hard and dipping precum to mix with the gel. Justin released him and turned away. Bent over the sink and ran his gel-covered hand over his ass. His finger probed between his cheeks and sank into his hole.

Brian could barely stand it, he wanted to fuck him so badly but he waited until Justin removed his fingers and then he eased inside him for the second time that night. He sighed. God, he loved his little boy. 

 

He awoke to find himself alone. Rising, he looked around and saw a light in the livingroom. Brian was seated on the sofa. Holding a photograph. Of the two of them and Gus.

"I never thought I could love him as much as I do," he said quietly once his lover had joined him.

"It hurts, sometimes, to leave him," Justin confessed.

"They're the best parents he could have. I could never take him away from them. Never hurt him like that." A tear slipped from beneath his lid and Justin took him in his arms and held him.

"Remember the night Gus was born? And you picked him up and held him and he reached out and touched your face?" Michael had taken a photograph of that moment, the first time the two of them had been together. "He knew you, even then, knew that you were his Dada. And he'll never forget it. He'll always be yours." Kissed him. "Me too," because he knew that part of the pain came from a lingering uncertainty about them as well. _I should never have gone._

Brian shivered and drew a breath. "I want a fireplace. In our new house."

"A fireplace and a tub," Justin added and Brian chuckled softly. Thumbing away a tear from his lover's cheek, Justin rose and held out his hand and, in silence, they returned to bed.


	12. Twas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin celebrate the holidays and their first anniversary.

The bracelet around his wrist slid up and then back down his arm as he pulled on a tank top. He'd lost a little weight during the weeks Justin had been gone and the slender cuff was slightly looser than before. He pinched the sides to tighten it more securely and paused. Stretched out his arm to admire the sterling silver bracelet and the platinum ring he wore. Both acquired last year around this time. That it had only been a year since he and Justin had exchanged rings continually astounded him. So much had happened in those twelve short months. If it weren't for the fact that he'd been through it, lived it, he would have thought it impossible to squeeze so much living into so little time. Time, then, had to be flexible, malleable and, above all, expandable to encompass so much. Sometimes he looked back and it seemed as if the days, the months were bloated with living. Back then, he knew, he'd despaired of having so much time, yet another hour, another week to fill with misery, uncertainty, depression. At other moments he had felt as if he'd run out of time, that if only he could have but one more minute, then another, and another, it would be all that he could ever wish for. Rarely did need match supply.

Lately he'd begun to feel that time again was slipping through his fingers faster than he would have liked. The closing of the year had come bringing with it thoughts of the year that had passed, thoughts full of regrets and recriminations; hopes deferred, if not abandoned; needs unfulfilled; opportunities lost; and he longed to be able to set everything right before the end of 2002 so that nothing was left to sully their new beginning. With the new year came an anniversary but also a chance to begin again, begin anew and rectify past mistakes, to set out with better intentions, with stronger commitments to one another.

It was in that contemplative mood that Justin found him when he returned home. Sitting by the window watching the snow fall softly, steadily, blanketing the world in an absolution it had not, perhaps, earned.

Kissing him aside the mouth, Justin asked, "You all right?"

"Yeah."

"Home early."

"Took the afternoon off," Brian explained.

Justin draped his jacket on a nearby chair and stood beside his lover, hand on his shoulder. "Should have called me. I told Debbie I'd pick up an afternoon shift at the diner."

"It was spur of the moment," said Brian and he shrugged. "I didn't have anything pressing to do at the office so I said fuck it, I'm going home."

Always urging Brian not to work so hard, Justin applauded the notion. "Well, I'm glad. You need to rest. Take care of yourself."

"Thought that was your job."

The teen slipped onto his lap and kissed him sweetly. "I've got to go in, like, fifteen minutes."

"Take the Jeep," murmured Brian.

"Okay, thirty minutes."

Brian slid an arm beneath Justin's legs and another around his waist, and lifted him. "More than enough time." 

 

Only, now that Justin had gone, he was faced with the task of filling the rest of his day. At home since Justin had the car. Would have been a great time to do a little Christmas shopping, the holiday only twelve days away. But again, Justin had the Jeep so he was stuck in the loft unless he took a cab to the mall but he hated the fucking mall. His other choice was to hit some of his favorite shops and boutiques but walking around out in the open didn't really appeal to him in this weather. Despite having grown up in Pittsburgh and dealing with snow all of his life, he much preferred the indoors. A true hothouse flower. Better suited to hopping in the hot tub than hitting the slopes.

In the midst of his deliberations he glanced at his computer. Online shopping. He could just go on the web and get it done. At least some of it.

Two hours later he'd made a considerable dint in his list without having to move except to get another cup of coffee. "Sweet," he whispered as he prepared to check his email and call it a day. Logging onto his email he cursed. He hated the freakin ads that proliferated the page, taking over every inch of free space. Every time he logged on he was either confronted with dating opportunities he didn't want; harangued by another ad to see a movie he had no interest in seeing; or promised that he could lose twenty pounds in three weeks; or clear up his skin; or--

He took a second look. Or buy a car.

The phone rang.

Reaching around the monitor, he picked up while clicking on the ad. "Yeah."

"Bri. Cynthia said you'd gone home but I didn't believe it." Lindsay.

"Miracles do happen."

"Listen. You up to playing Papa Bear tonight?"

He bit back his first angry retort--that her sitter must have bailed on her--because he wanted to see Gus. But he couldn't stay completely silent. "For how long?"

"You got plans?"

"No, I just want to know how long I get to keep him this time," he said a little sharper than he'd intended and he immediately knew that he'd taken the wrong tone; he could feel her confusion through the connection.

"Bri?"

"Forget it."

"No. What's wrong?"

He hadn't intended to get into it, not yet, not until he and Justin had discussed a plan of action because, God knows, he wasn't known for his rational thinking, not outside of business matters, at least not a great deal of the time. He needed Justin to point out the fallacies in his argument, to offer clear-sighted, level-headed advice. That is, if Justin could be reasonable when it came to Gus, which Brian doubted very much. It was a sticky situation and he wished he'd kept his fuckin' mouth closed.

"Bri?"

Like Justin, Lindsay could be a Pitt bull when it came to getting him to talk. He didn't expect her to give up. "I didn't mean to say that," he told her lamely, hoping that, for once, the planets would be aligned and she would let it go at that.

Right.

"No, you didn't mean to say it right then but obviously you meant what you said. I think we need to talk about this."

"Fine." Let her run with it until they were both sorry.

"From what you've said, I take it you feel that you don't get enough time with Gus."

That was true. "I don't feel that I do."

"That was your decision."

"I know."

"Are you saying you've changed your mind?"

"Maybe."

"Bri..."

"Okay. I have. I've changed my mind." Because he loved that little boy more than he ever thought he would.

"So what are you suggesting?"

"I don't know, Lindz. It's obvious that Gus can't live with me and Justin, least not right now. We don't have the room, our schedules are fucked… but… I want to spend more time with Gus. I think it'd be good for him."

"I've never said otherwise."

"I know." Then softly. "Maybe he could spend one or two weekends a month with us."

"You'd be willing to give up your weekends?"

"I'm not the same person I used to be, Lindz."

"I know."

"We hardly go out clubbing anymore. Fuck, we're like a couple of old married queers."

"And Justin agrees?"

"He loves Gus."

She paused. "All right. Two weekends a month Gus spends with you and Justin."

"What about Mel?" He doubted she'd agree so easily.

"I'll talk to Mel. She loves Gus. She only wants what's best for him. We all do. So," that matter to rest, her original question remained, "what about tonight? You up for babysitting?"

His original question remained as well. "For how long?"

"Bring him back Sunday evening?"

"Okay. But Justin's got the Jeep at the diner."

"How late is he working?"

"Afternoon shift. Gets off at seven." Since school was officially over, he was picking up some extra shifts when he wasn't in the studio.

"Have him swing by on his way home?"

"Done." He paused, thinking he should say something else. "Thanks, Lindz."

"Gus loves you. And Justin. I would never keep him from you. And he needs his Daddy. Which, by the way, is what he's calling you now. He's talking better every day."

Often on the receiving end of the toddler's endless patter, Brian said, "Yeah, I know." 

 

The door opened and Brian was confronted with the sound of Gus yelling, "Daddy!" and the smell of dinner which Justin had picked up and was now bringing inside. Catching the toddler in his arms, Brian lifted him and Beh up for a kiss and rubbed noses, that being Gus' most recent addition to his repertoire of affectionate behaviors. Kisses given, Brian stood the baby on the sofa, put Beh aside, removed Gus' SpongeBob SquarePants backpack with all of his stuff inside, then his coat, his hat, his gloves, and his shoes. Giving Gus the backpack and Beh, Brian gathered up his discarded clothes and together they carried everything into the bedroom. When they returned, Justin had already begun setting the table and putting out the food. Brian got Gus' booster seat from beside the refrigerator and placed it in a chair and lifted the tot into it.

"Daddy."

"Hmm?" He reached for the container of mashed potatoes on the counter.

"Jusin."

Brian smiled and waited until Justin came close to him and, with Gus' eyes on their every move, he kissed the teen. "There. Okay?"

"I'll say," breathed Justin.

And Gus nodded, pleased. 

 

"So what did you do all afternoon?" Justin glanced at Gus who was smearing mashed potatoes on his face. "Gus." He wiped his cheeks clean.

Brian gave the toddler the eye and said quite sternly, "If you don't want to eat, I'll take your plate away and you can leave the table. Are you done eating?" Gus shook his head. "Then eat your food and stop playing with it." Obediently, Gus began to spoon the rest of his potatoes into his mouth.

Justin mouthed, "You're good," and then said aloud, "So what'd you do?"

"Some online shopping."

"Christmas shopping?"

"No, Saint Patrick's Day."

"Smartass."

Gus giggled, snorting, and Brian and Justin ignored him. Lindsay said that it was the only way to discourage him from picking up bad words but Brian figured it was a lost cause since one half of his parenting quartet habitually used profanity of the paint-peeling variety.

"What'd you buy?"

"Stuff on the list," referring to their prodigious list of Christmas gifts.

"Get anything for you know who?"

"Some of it."

You know who had just finished eating his last chicken nugget and noisily drank the remainder of his milk. "Finised," he announced.

"Hold on," Brian told him and he wiped Gus' face and hands with the damp napkin Justin had used before. Then he lifted the toddler from his chair and let him go. Gus scurried to the bedroom and came back with Beh and his book. Took them both to the chaise lounge and climbed up onto it to read to Beh.

"Dat Pooh and Wabbit. At Wabbit house. And Pooh is hungry. Pooh has a red shirt. See? See Pooh shirt? Wabbit is naked," and Gus snickered.

Brian and Justin laughed quietly and Brian stole a kiss. "I talked to Lindz."

"About what?"

"Having him more often."

Justin tensed. Sometimes Brian's negotiating skills left something to be desired. "And…?"

"And she said we could have him two weekends out of the month."

"No shit."

"Nope."

Justin gave him another kiss. "You're amazing."

"That's what I keep telling you."

Proud of him, Justin added, "You did good."

"So what's my reward?" Always studying the angles.

Justin grinned and crooked his finger. When Brian had come closer, he whispered, "On Sunday, after we take Mini-Me home, I'm gonna," and he confided the rest in his ear.

The man's brow rose and he asked, "Really?"

"Most definitely." 

 

While Brian cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, Justin kept Gus occupied, putting on a CD and dancing with the toddler. "Come on, Gus, dance with me," and Justin shook his hips and snapped his fingers while The Counting Crows sang about being up all night. He'd loved that song so much, hearing it for the first time in London, that he'd immediately gone out when they'd gotten home and bought the album

Giggling, Gus tried to emulate Justin but his hip-shaking and finger-popping looked a little jerky compared to Justin's sinuous motions.

"Well," Justin called to Brian, "now we know he's yours. He even dances like you," and he waited for the 'Fuck you' that was surely coming.

Instead Brian picked up Gus and they danced together before Justin joined them. "That's okay," Brian told Justin, "you still adore us."

"Love you," said Justin with a kiss for both his men.

Brian checked Justin's watch. "Getting late." Then to Gus, "You sleepy?"

"No."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

Brian pointed to Beh, still lying on the chaise lounge. "I think Beh is sleepy."

"Beh seepy."

"You sure you're not a little sleepy?" asked Justin and Gus shook his head. "Guess he's a party animal like you."

"Let's go to Babylon then," Brian suggested.

"Brian."

"Don't worry. Mama Bear confiscated his fake ID so he couldn’t get in anyway."

Before Justin could reply, someone knocked and he went to see who it was. "Behave yourself," he warned just as he opened the door to find Joanie standing there. "Hi, Mrs. Kinney." He didn’t feel right calling her Joanie although Brian did sometimes.

"Hello, Ju—"

"Nana!"

"Keep your pants on," Brian told him, then put him down so Gus could run over to his grandmother.

"Hey, Nana."

"Gus," exclaimed Joanie, "look at you, look at how big you're getting." She kissed him and squeezed him tight, it'd been almost three weeks since she'd seen him last. "I've missed you."

"Miss you, Nana. Luv you."

"I love you too. What were you doing before Nana came?"

And Gus began to dance for her and he was so like Brian when he was a little boy that she laughed until tears wet her eyes.

After they'd settled in the livingroom, Joanie with Gus on her lap, Brian asked, "What are you doing out prowling around? Hot date?"

She blushed. "Brian…"

"You got a boyfriend hidden somewhere that you're not telling me about?" and Justin pinched him. "Ouch!"

"No, I do not," she replied. "I wanted to talk to you about your sister."

"Christ."

"Don’t take the Lord's name in vain."

"It's in vain all right cause it won't get me out of dealing with whatever crap Claire's gotten into. How much?"

"How much what?"

Justin rose and reached for Gus. "I think Gus is ready for his bath, aren't you Gus?" The baby looked confused. "You're ready. Come on," and he hurried from the room.

"Coward," grumbled Brian as he passed him. Turning again to Joanie, he asked, "How much is this gonna cost me?"

"I'm thinking about letting Claire move into the house with me."

"Chr— What the fuck!"

"Brian Kinney!"

"You just got rid of one baby and now you're gonna take on three more?"

"I did not get rid of your father." Despite what her sister believed.

"You got lucky."

"You will not speak disrespectfully of your father." There were proprieties to uphold.

"So why do Claire and her demon spawn need to move in with you?"

"It would be cheaper than trying to maintain two households."

"She need money?"

"She's still working."

"Do you?"

There was money, but very little. Enough, if she was frugal and didn't acquire a taste for needless luxuries. "I'll get by."

"But only if Claire moves in with you." He stood, paced. "What if I helped you out?"

"You've got responsibilities."

And a taste for living extravagently. He could scale back. "What if I helped you out?"

"I love Claire and the boys."

"What about your new career? How are you going to focus on your business if you're dealing with Claire and her bullshit all the time?"

Ignoring his language, she asked, "What business? I don't have any clients."

"You will. Just wait. It takes time."

"Well, until I do I might as well spend time with my family."

"You know, it's okay to be scared of starting something new."

"I'm not scared."

"And I know that it's easier to do what you've always done but I don't want you to sell yourself short." He had given almost the same speech to Justin and things had worked out.

"I'm not."

"You tell Claire she could move in yet?"

"Not yet."

Thank God for small favors. "Why don't you wait? Give it until the new year? Think about it some more. Who knows? Your business might take off before then. Holidays are coming up. Lots of parties and shit."

"Daddy!"

Brian looked towards the bathroom where Gus was supposed to be occupied.

"I think I should go," Joanie said, taking the opportunity afforded her by the interruption.

"Mom—"

"I'll think about what you said." He walked her to the door and she said before leaving, "Tell Justin and Gus goodnight."

Justin looked up as he came into the bathroom. He had his sleeves rolled up and his arms plunged into a basin of soapy water. Some had spilled over onto the cabinet. Gus was standing on the commode completely naked.

"Where are your clothes?" asked Brian and Gus giggled.

"Me naked."

"I can see that."

"He says he doesn't want to put on any clothes."

"No clothes."

"Well, it's warm in here." Brian put him down onto the floor and smacked his bare bottom lightly. "There you go, Nature Boy." Gus ran off to the other room to find Beh and tell him he was naked.

"So?" Justin asked, cleaning up the mess Gus and he had made.

"So Claire, that fuckin' moocher, wants to move in with my mom. Which means Joanie goes right back to being a goddamn housewife. Fuckin' cunt. She knows this is important and she just wants to fuck it up."

Well aware of Brian's feelings about his sibling, Justin had long ago given up trying to get Brian to change his attitude towards her. "Maybe she thinks your mom is lonely."

"What she thinks is that she's getting a free babysitter, a free cook, and a free maid."

Finishing up, Justin dumped Gus' dirty clothes in the hamper and carried his rejected pajamas and trainers to the bedroom.

Brian peeked out and saw Gus dancing with Beh and grinned. If Lindsay could only see that… Quietly, he got his camera from the closet, attached the flash, and snapped about half a dozen pictures before Gus saw him and came running. "Aren't you sleepy yet?" Brian asked and Gus shook his head and followed Brian back into the bedroom where Justin was undressing.

"Jusin naked!"

The teen shook his hips and Gus copied him although his package was nowhere near as impressive or mobile.

Brian put away the camera, the temptation almost more than he could resist but he had plenty of pictures of Justin naked. Still…

Slipping a hand beneath Brian's tank top, Justin suggested that he get naked too. "Let's see what you've got," he purred and Brian complied and dropped off his clothes so that they were all gloriously naked. Brian stood Gus up on the bed and watched as the toddler hopped around on slender legs, laughing, until he got dizzy and sat down hard on the bed, his little chest heaving. He fell backwards and lay there exhausted.

"Sleepy?"

"No," he replied breathlessly.

"Well," announced Brian, "my balls are getting cold," and he took out his pajama bottoms and slipped them on, something he never did unless Gus was visiting as he and Justin slept in the buff.

Justin followed suit saying, "My butt's kinda chilly."

"Got to protect that," Brian said and he pulled Justin into his arms and kissed him. Whispered, "You think he'll fall for it?" They waited and watched as Gus fought clothes and sleep, raising and lowering his legs and reaching for his toes over and over again, each time a little less energetically until Brian was certain that sleep was winning. Lindz had told Justin that Gus hadn't had a nighttime accident in a week, so Brian decided to forgo the diaper. He slipped on Gus' trainers and his Pooh shirt with little resistance from the tot. By the time Justin pulled back the covers, Gus was done for. Brian lay him down and put Beh within reach and Justin raised the sheet and spread over him. Kissing him softly, they tiptoed silently from the room.

Settled on the sofa, Justin asked, "Did you hate going to bed that much when you were little?"

"I guess. I don't remember. But when you're his age, everything is new and you can't see enough, can't do enough."

"Kinda like us in Europe." He snuggled closer, slung leg across hip, absorbing Brian's heat. "Listen, since we've got Gus this weekend, can we get the tree and put it up?"

"Why not?" He stroked Justin's hip and thigh, his hand sliding around to cup a warm cheek. They kissed tenderly. "How long has it been?"

"This afternoon."

"That long?"

Justin caught Brian's lip between his own and kissed him deeply. "What about Gus?"

"He'll sleep," said Brian, hoping it was true because he really wanted Justin and he didn't think he could wait any longer. Waiting was not something he did well. Apparently Justin believed him because he felt the teen's hand snake between his thighs and cup him and then slip inside the waistband of his pajamas. 

 

As usual Gus was the first to wake, wandering through a state of partial awareness until his eyes finally opened and he knew where he was and with whom. He rolled over and came face-to-face with his daddy's back. Tentatively, curiously, he reached out and touched Brian. Daddy's skin was soft. He liked touching him. Using his finger, he scribbled on his daddy's back the way he would on paper with the crayons his Mommy had given him. Brian stirred and Gus stopped, then started once more. Again Brian moved and the skin on his back seemed to ripple. Gus looked on fascinated and unable to resist a third, furtive touch.

He was dreaming of butterflies and one had settled on his back; he wriggled his shoulders to try and get rid of it, to urge it to fly away and bother someone else but it wouldn't. And then he heard giggling and knew that he wasn't asleep and he wasn't dreaming, and that Gus was the butterfly crawling over his skin. He turned over and faced the tot. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Got pee, Daddy," said Gus and it seemed to surprise him that he did. He hadn't thought of it until he said it.

Brian threw back the covers. "Come on." Good thing too. He had to go as well.

When they returned from the bathroom, Justin was awake. Gus ran and climbed onto the bed, crawled across it and jumped on him. "Jusin!"

"Hey, Gus." Kiss. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Really hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Really really hungry?"

"Yeah!" yelled Gus and he bounced on top of Justin causing the teen to groan.

"Hey, young man," warned Brian, "be careful. He's got to last for at least another fifty, sixty years."

Releasing Justin, Gus ran across the bed and leapt for his daddy. Brian caught him with an, "Oomph!" and swung him up in the air.

"Daddy!" he screamed with glee and Brian bought him close and kissed him soundly, then lay him down and stretched across the bed to kiss his other little boy. Just as he pulled away, Gus straddled his back.

"Not the—" began Brian and Gus grabbed his hair. "Ow!" Gus let go and held onto his neck instead. Brian began to roll from side to side trying to dislodge Gus but the toddler held on.

"Ride em, cowboy!" Justin shouted in encouragement as Brian really began to buck and Gus had to tighten his grip which was hard as he was squealing at the same time. At last he fell off, hardly able to catch his breath before Brian started tickling him. He dissolved into bubbling laughter, kicking until he grew weaker and weaker and could hardly summon the strength to laugh. At last, Brian took pity on him and stopped. He also took advantage of Gus' momentary stillness to kiss Justin again.

"I love you, Pookie."

"Love you too."

"Breakfast requests?"

"Mmm… not in front of the minor."

"Pookee," said Gus who was stirring again. Couldn't keep him down for long. Definitely like father like son.

"Oh no," Brian warned. "No way. That's Daddy to you."

"Pookee."

"Daddy."

Gus giggled. "Daddy Pookee."

Justin made a trip to the bathroom and met them in the kitchen. Brian sat Mini-Me on the counter as he and Justin went through the cabinets and refrigerator.

"How about scones and sausage and eggs?"

"You can make scones?" Brian asked.

"Your mom showed me."

"When?"

"I don't remember. I went over to help her with her designs and we started talking about you and when you were a little boy and she told me that you loved scones."

"I do." He smiled, remembering his mom's hot lemon and poppy seed scones, butter melting in the middle.

Seeing the look on his face, Justin decided. "Scones it is. You might have to give Gus a banana or something until breakfast is ready."

"You want me to help?"

"Keep him entertained."

Brian lifted Gus from the counter and plopped him on his booster seat. "Sit." As soon as he turned his back, Gus started to get down but Brian was wise to him and whipped around quickly. "Stay, I said, or else."

"No!"

Brian raised a brow and Gus sat back in his chair. That taken care of, he cut up a banana in a bowl and poured Gus a glass of juice, carried both to the table and kissed his son on the head.

Gus looked up. Touched his daddy's face. "Luv you, Daddy."

"I love you too. Now eat your food and then you can call Mommy and Mama."

"No go home," said Gus around a mouthful of banana.

"Not today. Tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay." He slurped his juice. "Daddy?"

"What?" Brian took the cup of coffee Justin brought him, black and sweet the way he liked it. "Thanks, Baby."

"Go ride in Jeep?"

"If you're good."

"I good."

"Brian," scolded Justin, "don't tease him."

"Who's teasing?"

Justin said from the kitchen, "Gus is always good. Aren't you, Gus?"

"Yeah." 

 

Although Justin's scones weren't as good as Joanie's, they were still quite tasty. After breakfast they showered and dressed and Brian girded himself for a day of shopping and screeching and begging—on the parts of both his little boys. That being the case, he put on his Miu-Mius which were built for lots of walking and quick getaways.

Justin gave him the once-over: he was wearing an olive green sweater that molded itself to his pecs, his best-fitting jeans, and his tan quarter-length wool overcoat. "You look nice."

"Thanks."

"Why?"

"Because I have expensive clothes, a great body, and fabulous taste."

"Show off."

"Uh-huh. Gus is looking pretty snazzy too."

He was. Brian had taken him shopping and bought him a very stylish navy blue winter coat and half a dozen expensive designer sweaters that put him at the very top of the best-dressed list at his pre-school. Today he had on a green, yellow, and blue sweater that was da bomb.

Feeling generous, Brian added, "You don't look half bad yourself. For an Old Navy poster boy."

Unlike the other two, Justin only had on his old blue sweater and an equally old pair of jeans but the sweater brought out the color of his eyes and Brian loved his eyes.

So, scarves, hats (in Justin and Gus' cases) and gloves on, the three intrepid adventurers set off for the mall and many excruciating hours (in Brian's case) of trying to play nice with irritating people.

"What's the theme for this year?" Brian asked as he released Gus from the car seat and mentally prepared himself for the coming ordeal.

"I thought it might be fun to do novelty ornaments. You know, toys and stuff, Peanuts and the PowerPuff Girls—"

"Papuff gurls," said Gus. He liked them.

"SpongeBob—"

"SpongeBob!" He really liked SpongeBob. Daddy liked him too. "SpongeBob, SpongeBob, Spoonge Bob, Sponge Booob…" Gus said to himself over and over again as if he were practicing his diction, putting the stress on different syllables, stretching some out and shortening others.

Oh Christ, Brian groaned inwardly. And to Justin said, "Ixnay on the Ongespay Obbay." Gus got hyped up enough just from getting up in the morning, no need to send his little brain into overdrive with the prospect of stores full of brightly-colored crap. Which was where they were headed and what they would find.

"O-kay," agreed Justin, grinning.

"You'll want some again," Brian threatened.

"And you'll give it up," said Justin, his grin wider than ever.

The two men thought Gus would explode when they went into the Big Q to look for ornaments. It was a freak show, the masses on display in all their greedy glory. Brian scanned the store for any sign of Michael, he thought he had to work today. Probably working every day until the holidays were over. The dreary crap emporium was out to make every dime it could. He spotted Michael talking to one of his employees and waved. His best friend waved back and made a sign that meant 'later'.

Wanting to keep Gus away from the toys, they were thwarted by the placement of the Christmas decorations—their aisles abutted the toy aisles. But, as soon as Gus started to make a dash for it, Brian caught him and knelt down to talk to him. "Hey. No running. Now, first we're going to look at ornaments for the tree and then we'll look at the toys, but only for a few minutes and when I say it's time to go, we're going? Okay?"

"Now."

"No. After we're finished here."

Gus looked at Justin and tugged on his hand, appealing to him. "Jusin…"

"You heard what Daddy said. We'll see the toys after we're done here. Okay? Be a good boy for Daddy and me?" Sadly, Gus nodded.

To make sure Gus behaved, Brian put him up in the cart. But soon Gus was fixated on the shiny Christmas balls and forgot all about the toys. For the moment.

Michael finished with his sales clerk and found them going through the store's selection of tree skirts. Even though they had the one they used last year, Justin wasn't sure if it'd go with this year's theme. "Hey, Guys."

"You do that on purpose, don’t you?" Brian asked.

"Do what? All I did was say, 'Hey, Guys.' "

"Put the Christmas stuff near the toys."

"Well, duh," said Michael. "I'm in the business of selling. My goal is to sell as much of this crap," and he said it softly, "as possible."

"Well, I'm just trying to get out of here without spending all of my money. See anything?" he asked Justin.

"Nope."

Brian sighed. That meant a more expensive store and a more expensive tree skirt. God, he was glad Christmas only came once a year.

"So, look, I'm having lunch at the diner around two if you wanna come." He had to get back to work. There was crap still to be sold.

"Yeah. Later, Mikey."

At the end of an hour, they had a number of items on Justin's tree trimming list but there was much more to go. Someplace else. So Brian kept his promise and took Gus over to the toy section while Justin checked out. That way when it was time to go, there'd be nothing to keep them in the store a moment longer.

His cell beeped as Gus stood looking at some apple red trucks. Justin was done. "Okay, Gus, we gotta go."

"No. Stay."

"We need to go. Justin is waiting. So come on." He reached for Gus' hand but the toddler snatched it away. "I'm counting to three and then we're going."

"No."

"One."

"Daddy, see."

"Two."

Gus pointed to the truck. "See truck?"

"Three."

Gus' lip began to tremble and Brian sighed. _Here it comes. First the sniffles, then the full-fledged hissy fit_. Before Gus could launch into it though, Brian threatened, "Do you want me to take you back home? Back to Mommy and Mama and tell them what a baby you were? Justin and I were going to keep you until tomorrow but if you want to be a baby, I'll have to take you home. There's only room in the loft for big boys."

Gus sniffled and nodded.

"You want to go home?"

"No." Softly.

"Are you a big boy?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go." Gus took hold of his hand and walked towards the front of the store, only looking back at the toy section once or twice and Brian made a mental note to add a red truck to the list of presents for his son.

Justin had loaded the Jeep by the time they arrived. He took Gus from Brian and buckled him in his car seat. "Everything go okay?"

"Almost had some waterworks but Gus is a big boy, aren't you, Gus?" He nodded and picked up Beh and held him close. Brian leaned over and whispered to Justin, "He wants a red truck. Put it on the list."

"It's half a page long as is. Plus, you got him Hanukkah presents too."

"Yeah, but," Brian said, starting up the car, "that's over."

"You're gonna spoil him."

"Once a year."

"And on his birthday and every other week. It's too much."

Brian rolled his eyes and pulled out of the lot. "The mall?"

"The mall." Which meant he had probably lost this round but you could never tell with Brian, how much he absorbed and what he'd do.

He sighed. "Can I please stop and get some coffee first? And maybe have a smoke?"

"Coffee. No cigarettes."

"But I've been good." He had cut back. A pack lasted him a whole week now.

Justin laid a hand on his thigh and squeezed. "For me," he said and Brian resigned himself to coffee only and hoped he'd catch a whiff of someone else's cigarette along the way. 

 

Chaos. People yelling, children screaming, everyone running, rushing, bright colors swirling together. It was like a horror movie set in an amusement park. The mall. _Enough to make you barf,_ thought Brian and he clutched Gus even tighter to him as if he could save him from being swept up in the madness. He was aware of the irony, that marketers and advertisers like himself had helped in the creation of an annual buying frenzy that had all but warped the holidays and their traditions out of true.

_Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!_

He, himself, was a consumer par excellence, the only difference being that he didn't buy the hype. He admired clever campaigns, envied certain ads, and filed ideas away in his brain for his next project but he didn't believe in any of it, he knew when he was being manipulated and, consequently, based few of his decisions on advertising claims. He judged each thing according to its worth, as he saw fit. Even so, he did admire effective presentations, simplicity sometimes being the best.

Wandering through store after store with Justin, in search of ornaments and decorations for the loft, Brian was struck by the paucity of imagination employed in displaying items. Things that needed no more than a case to be displayed to their best advantage were nestled in among so many other extraneous holiday bric-a-brac that you were turned off or, sometimes, you missed the item altogether. Joanie would never have done that.

He felt a pang of guilt. He'd promised her that he'd shop around her portfolio and so far he'd done a piss poor job of it, too busy with his own work to drum up business for her. She could have done wonders with these displays. Just the few she'd done in the loft had been heads and shoulders above anything he'd seen today. He vowed to do better. That is if she didn't let Claire and her monstrous brood move in. If she did, she'd be too busy baking scones for her grandsons to concentrate on her career. _Maybe that would make her happy_ , he said to himself. _Who are you to judge?_

Who indeed? Why did he need her to succeed so badly? He didn't know, only that he did. The same way he needed Justin to be successful at what he did. And he would be. After the 9/11 show at PIFA, Jeff had interviewed Justin and Xavier and some of the other kids at the Institute and Justin had gotten some very favorable comments from his instructors. In time, Justin would achieve all that he desired. Which made him feel proud and a little sad. He could foresee a day when Justin would be the one traveling to exhibitions of his own work, maybe spending two or three months in some artists' colony or guest lecturing at a university halfway across the country, across the world.

Gus stirred and he put him down. Even Gus would one day go out on his own. And he'd have to let him. But he wouldn't be alone because he knew that no matter how far they roamed, they'd each return to him or he would go to them and see new places—and old—through their eyes.

The toddler had picked up an ornament shaped like a teddy bear and held it up. "Beh," he told Brian.

"That's right."

Gus carried it to Justin and placed it in the shopping bag that he carried and Brian laughed silently. He had no doubts whatsoever about Gus' ability to take care of himself and to get what he wanted out of the world. 

 

Finally, after hunting through countless stores, Justin declared them done with the trimming for the tree and the decorations for the apartment. Now all that was left was lunch and the tree.

Saving the tree for after lunch, they drove over to the diner and found a booth. Deb waved from the back and within minutes Michael arrived.

"So you get everything?" Michael asked Justin.

"There's nothing left in any store," Brian answered. "We got it all."

Deb set three glasses of water on the table and a plastic cup with a lid and a straw for Gus. "Hey, baby."

"Hey, Debee," he said before gulping down half the water.

"What'd you do? Cut his rations?"

Sheepishly, Brian admitted that they'd been so busy shopping that he hadn't thought of getting Gus anything to drink and Gus hadn't called his attention to it.

"He's still a baby, for Pete's sake, he won't always know," she said and popped Brian on the back of the head. "Now, what do you want to eat, Gus?"

"French fries."

"What else?"

"Cheeburga."

Michael shook his head. "He's talking better every time I see him."

"And all the time. Definitely inherited that from Lindsay."

"Uh-huh."

"Justin?" Deb next asked.

"I'll have a cheeseburger too and a chocolate shake."

"No fries?"

"I'll share with Gus. He won't eat all of his."

"Michael?"

"Turkey meatloaf."

"And a turkey sandwich for Mr. Wonderful. Hold the mayo."

"Actually…"

She waited.

"I think I'll have a tuna fish sandwich."

She stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"And hungry. So hop to it."

"Asshole." And she hit him on the arm before calling in their order.

"Jeff coming over to Deb's for Christmas dinner?" Brian asked. "Although he'd need body armor. Or good health insurance."

"Maybe," replied Michael.

Justin's ears perked up. "Problems?"

"I think we've run our course."

"Sorry."

Brian studied Michael for a moment. "Any hot new prospect?"

"Actually, there's this guy down at the Big Q…"

"Yeah?" said Brian.

"Who totally has no fucking idea I exist," finished Michael.

"Come on," Brian said, "a stud like you?"

"Yeah right. Next thing you know you'll be telling me how I can have any guy I want."

Brian held his eyes. "You can."

Alarmed, Justin fixed his gaze on Brian and saw, for the first time, that Brian was aware of how Michael felt about him and was telling Michael, for the first time, that it wasn't to be. He wondered if Michael understood.

Mikey smiled. "You're right. I can. And I really want Jeff."

"Then keep him."

"I think," Michael admitted, "that he's losing interest. We don't have a lot in common." He paused. "Kind of like me and David."

"Yeah, except Jeff isn't as big of an asshole," Brian commented.

"Amen," added Deb, refilling their water glasses and Gus' cup.

"Ma!"

"Well, he was. I never liked him."

Justin burst out laughing. "You had their china pattern all picked out. I used to hear her and Vic talking about it."

"Big mouth." And a pop on the head for him too.

Gus giggled and Brian tickled him which made him giggle harder. "What are you laughing about?"

"Daddy!" Gus cried and tried to keep Brian from tickling him. Finally Brian stopped and Gus watched him and then started to tickle him. Brian laughed and ineffectually fought off the two-year-old's attack.

"All right, you two," said Justin. "Behave."

Gus stopped and then reached for Brian but Justin had given him just enough time to recover and he caught Gus' hands and then lifted him onto his lap and kissed him.

"Luv you."

"I love you too."

"Pee-pee," said Gus and he grabbed at his crotch. Brian leapt from the table and rushed Gus to the bathroom.

Justin chuckled. "Hope he gets there in time cause we didn't bring any extra clothes."

Left alone at the table with Justin, Michael said softly, "I know that it would have never happened for us." Justin said nothing. "If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now. I'm glad he's with you. It's where he belongs."

"Maybe things will work out between you and Jeff."

"Maybe."

Brian returned with Gus and sat down with a sigh.

"Make it in time?" asked Justin.

"Just barely. That's it. No more tickling."

"Least not after almost two glasses of water and the last time he went to the bathroom was this morning."

"Daddy?" asked Gus, patting his leg to get his attention.

"What?"

"Cheeburga. I want cheeburga."

"Hey, Deb!" Brian called.

"What?"

"Gus wants his cheeseburger."

"Tell him to keep his trainers on. It's coming right up. What is it with you Kinney men?" she grumbled. "Always rushing me." 

 

He felt like he was in the middle of A Charlie Brown Christmas. He and Justin and Gus were walking among the Christmas trees on the lot debating the various good and bad points of each tree. He knew, from experience, that Justin wouldn't chose just any tree, it had to be the perfect tree. Even if they had to hit every lot in the greater Pittsburgh area and this was only the first lot. He had no hope that the perfect tree would be found here. Maybe by the third…

"Hey!" Justin exclaimed. "What about this one?"

It was a Virginia Pine, nice shape, good-looking branches, no gaping holes, and it smelled like the woods on a crisp winter day. "Looks good to me."

"What do you say, Gus? Is this a good tree?"

"Good tree."

Justin beamed. "That settles it. This is the one."

Having gotten the tree tied down to the roof of the Jeep, Brian asked, "Home?"

"Mm hmm. I just need to call your mom."

"Why?"

"She's coming over to help. That way you can keep Gus occupied." He flipped open his cell and called her. "Hi, Mrs. Kinney, it's Justin. Fine. We're done shopping if you want to come over. Okay. Bye." Closed it. "She'll meet us there."

Just the thought of Joanie and Justin flying around the loft decorating for the holidays made Brian want to run away. Suddenly he had a bright idea. "What if you and Joanie do your thing and I take Gus to the movies? That way we'll both be out of your hair."

At first Justin was inclined to argue, wanting Brian to participate in the decorating in some way and then he remembered decorating for his birthday with Brian there in the loft and, sure, he'd been sick but still… he'd been a huge pain in the ass. "Sounds like a plan." 

 

The Santa Clause 2 wasn't the worst film he'd ever seen but he never wanted to see it again. Gus, on the other hand, loved it. Gus, it had to be said, loved anything in Technicolor and with lots of noise and the film fit the bill perfectly. Brian would have rather seen The Two Towers but he and Justin had a date to go see it during his vacation after Christmas and he thought Gus was too young for Harry Potter, besides which, he had no interest in seeing it.

Having refrained from buying popcorn or any other junk food, Brian was ready to eat. He called Justin on the cell as he negotiated traffic. "Hey, it's over. You done there?"

"Almost."

"You want me to pick up something for dinner?"

"Chinese?"

"Joanie staying?"

"Hold on." Asked, "Are you staying for dinner?"

"No, thank you, I promised Claire I'd stop by."

"Nope."

"I heard. The c—" He cut it off remembering Gus was in the back and that he heard everything and forgot nothing. "Be there soon. Later."

"Later."

Brian checked the mirror and saw that Gus was slumped over in his seat. He hadn't had a nap all day. Let him sleep until they got home then. So that he wouldn't have to get out and leave Gus in the car alone for very long, Brian called ahead to the restaurant they got take-out from and put in their order, hoping it'd be ready by the time he got there. 

 

Stepping inside the loft with Gus still asleep and cradled against his shoulder, Brian thought he'd made a mistake and gone to someone else's apartment. Even though he'd been with Justin when he'd bought all of the decorations, he'd never imagined that any of that stuff could change the look of the loft that much. He'd been wrong.

To go along with the bright colors of the ornaments, Justin had abandoned the white lights for azure ones, and white candles for votives of all hues and shades. Even the wreath on the door, which last year had been green spruce with a tasteful blue ribbon tied at the bottom, had been replaced by a circle of vibrant holly berries. Broad velvet ribbons of rich sapphire edged in gold draped the tops of the curtains and hung in graceful loops from the counter tops. Ruby red poinsettias lined the top of one of the built in cabinets around the outside of their bedroom; slender scarlet tapers nestled in greenery graced the other.

The tree was magnificent. Rising in front of the trio of windows in the livingroom, it seemed to be encircled in rainbows. Around the base was a quilted skirt decorated with stuffed toys. On top was the angel Justin had bought in Italy, a cherub with amethyst wings holding a star in the palm of his hand.

Justin glided over to him and said softly, "You like it?"

"It's amazing. I can't wait until Gus sees it."

Lips touching briefly, Justin took the food from Brian while he carried the sleeping toddler to the bedroom and pulled off his sweater and laid him down. 

 

They ate dinner waiting for Gus to wake up and put in the copy of A Christmas Carol that Justin had found for Brian, the one with Alistair Sims. They'd just gotten to the part where Scrooge meets the Ghost of Christmas Past when they heard the patter of little feet and saw Gus running across the bedroom floor.

"Gus, stop running," Brian told him and the little boy ignored him and ran down the steps. And slipped and fell. Luckily he fell backwards and onto his butt, bumping his arm against the edge of the steps as he struggled to catch himself.

Up in an instant, Brian lifted him just as Gus began to cry. "Let me see," he told him and examined his arm. Justin came over.

"Is he all right?"

"The skin's not broken. I think he's okay." But Gus was crying hard, face pressed into Brian's neck and Brian wasn't sure if they shouldn't take him to the Emergency Room.

"We can wait a little while, wait until he stops crying and if it still bothers him, then we can take him."

So they carried him into the livingroom and Brian held him until he calmed down and sat sniffling on his daddy's lap.

Brian wiped his face and kissed him. "You okay? Does your arm hurt?" Gus held out his arm and Brian kissed it. "Better?" Gus nodded and lay against Brian's chest.

In a half hour the spot where he'd struck his arm was bruised but Gus seemed to have forgotten all about it and his movements didn't seem impeded so they decided to give it until the morning and if he complained, then they'd take him to see a doctor.

Watching him sleep again, Brian tried not to worry but he could imagine what Mel and Lindsay would say when they saw Gus' arm. They'd freak. Justin came up behind him and slipped an arm around his waist. "He'll be fine. Kids fall all the time."

But Brian said nothing, just kept watching Gus sleep until Justin gave up and left him to cut off the lights and to get ready for bed. 

 

The bruise looked worse in the morning but Gus seemed fine. When Brian asked him if it hurt, he shook his head and wanted to play Horsey. Only his horse wasn't up to it. Worrying about Lindz's reaction when she saw. He could hear her yelling at him still, "Don't tell me you'll be there for him and then you're not!"

"Brian…?" He turned. "You should eat." Brian had said that he wasn't hungry, that all he wanted was coffee, and he sat on the sofa brooding. Sliding his hand down Brian's shoulder, Justin waited.

"I'm not hungry, Baby."

"For me."

"I don't want anything." But he took hold of Justin's hand momentarily and squeezed it to let him know that he heard, that he understood, that he appreciated the concern.

The mood of the day was subdued, with Justin and Gus trying to jar Brian from his mood and failing time and time again. Gus was entranced with the decorations, as Brian had predicted, and he played by the tree, telling Beh the names of the ornaments that he recognized and pointing the bear that he'd picked out just for Beh. Justin sketched when it became obvious that Brian was not going to be good company at all. Watching his lover seated at his computer going over the household finances, Justin began to draw him, trying to capture the highlights in his hair revealed by the rays of light streaming through the window. When Brian looked up, Justin found himself caught in his hazel eyes. Brian glanced away and returned to his calculations.

Finally, around five, Brian called Lindz to see if they were home.

As usual, Gus resisted packing his things to return to the house but, in the end, he followed Brian's instructions and helped put everything into his backpack.

Sitting in the Jeep outside of Mel and Lindsay's Brian wanted nothing so much as to turn back time and catch Gus before he slipped down the steps. But he couldn't. There was nothing he could do except to deal with the problem at hand. Helping Gus out of the car seat, Brian held his hand as they walked to the house. Justin rang the doorbell.

Lindz peeked out of the window and opened the door. "Hey!"

"Mommy!"

She picked him up and kissed him loudly. Mel arrived and took him from her and kissed him as well.

"Come on, big boy, let Mama take off your coat." She did so and Brian and Justin felt like they had butterflies in their stomachs.

"Are you two gonna stand there or come in and sit down?" asked Lindsay so they went inside.

"Hey, what happened to Gus' arm?" Mel asked, showing Lindsay the bruise.

"Bri?"

"He fell down the steps from the bedroom and bumped his arm. He said—"

"Does it hurt, baby?" she asked Gus and the toddler shook his head and tried to get away from them, to go play. They released him and he grabbed Beh and went in search of his ride-on fire truck.

"How the fuck did he fall down the stairs?" Mel asked.

"He was running and he fell," Brian replied tightly. Justin moved closer to him, hoping to head off an ugly confrontation.

"And where were you?"

"Sitting on the couch."

"Why weren't you watching him?"

"He was asleep. He woke up, and ran down the steps."

"Brian told him to stop running but he wouldn't listen—"

"He's two," she said. "You should have had him with you," she told Brian, "but I guess you were too busy fucking to watch your son."

"That's not—" began Justin.

Brian turned to Lindsay. "We were watching a goddamn movie and he was asleep. What did you want me to do?"

"He could have really hurt himself."

"He didn't. Kids fall all the time. Hell, I bet he's even fallen here."

"Not like that."

Taking a deep breath, Brian nodded.

Mel glared at him. "I think we need to rethink this weekend thing."

"What?" He shot a look at Lindsay. "Lindz…?"

"I think Mel is right."

Justin felt Brian tense up and he reached for his arm, held him, felt him trembling in anger and helplessness.

"You promised, Lindsay."

"And you promised to take care of him."

"I expected this from her. I never thought you'd turn on me."

"This is about Gus."

His throat tightened and he pulled away from Justin and left the house.

The teen stared at the two women in disbelief. How could they have done that to Brian? Following Brian's example, he pushed through the door and headed to the Jeep where his lover waited for him. Saying nothing, Brian started the engine and pulled out of the yard. 

 

So he'd fucked up again and it might have cost him his son. Brian stood at the window ignoring the chill in the air. He'd left the bed in the middle of the night, not wanting to wake Justin with his tossing and turning. He had no idea what to do, how to fix things, and already he could feel an empty place in his heart where Gus used to be. "No," he whispered. He wouldn't give up. He couldn't. He just didn't know what to do.

Justin came up behind him and draped his robe about his shoulders. "You'll catch cold."

"You should be in bed," Brian said, sliding his arms into the robe.

"So should you. You've got work tomorrow."

"I'll be there in a little while."

"I'll wait. I don't have to be anywhere in the morning."

Brian fell silent, then said, "I can't lose him."

"You won't. Give them some time to calm down and I'm sure they'll realize that they were being unfair."

"And if they don't? Then what? What the fuck am I supposed to do if they say no? I don't have any rights to him, no legal ones. All I am is the sperm donor."

"Don't say that."

"It's true."

"We'll talk to them and they'll see. I promise." He drew Brian's head down and kissed him. "I promise. Okay?" Another kiss. "Okay?" He kissed him again, suddenly hungry for him, and unbelted his robe and dropped it, pushed Brian's back down over his shoulders. The man lifted him and he wrapped his legs around him as they kissed.

Brian stood him on the bed and he dropped to his knees, Brian's lips brushing over his belly and chest and finally his lips. Justin pulled Brian down onto him, then rolled him onto his back and straddled him, kissing his perfect mouth, the smooth column of his neck, his broad nipples. Brian uttered a small cry as Justin bit down on one, then kissed it. The teen moved back up and kissed him fiercely, gnawing on his lips until they swelled and grew tender. "I love you," Justin whispered and sealed his vow with another kiss. He was so hard, wanted Brian so much he ached.

Turning, Justin held Brian's cock by the base and fed on him, sucking the luscious head until it turned a rosy red. His lips slid down the shaft and back up again, tongue swirling as he bobbed over Brian's groin. Tasting precum in his saliva, the teen let Brian slip from his lips. He drew the man's legs up and open, raising his hips from the bed, and buried his face between his cheeks.

He could feel Justin hard and wet against his belly, could feel his own cock tremble as it brushed against his lover's. And Justin's tongue… it curled against his hole, causing him to shiver and cry out. He covered his face with his hand and inhaled as Justin's tongue entered him. "Oh, God… Oh, God…"

Raising up, Justin shifted positions and knelt between Brian's legs. Placed them over his shoulders and, with one hand on his cock and the other spreading Brian's cheeks, he pushed inside him, passing through the tight opening with a pinch and then moving deeper, and deeper still until he pressed up against him, buried to the hilt. "Brian." He turned his head and kissed his calf, ran his hand down the inside of his thighs.

His eyes were shut and still he could see Justin in his mind, beautiful and golden, so bright that he banished any and all shadows. He could feel Justin moving between his thighs, sliding in and out of him, each thrust, each withdrawal sending currents of pleasure barreling throughout his body. Sweat caused his legs to slip from the teen's shoulders and Justin changed positions, lay almost supine upon him, still thrusting, kissing his throat, his chest, his chin, his lips. He laid his hands upon Justin's buttocks and urged him on, their sweaty bodies straining against one another, hearts beating so fast that he thought they'd expire. His cock throbbed with each thrust as Justin's body slid against his, his balls hard against the teen's abdomen. "I—I… I. Oh. I love you," he murmured. "I love you." He jerked and came, cum mixing with sweat.

Justin, caught in the spasm, shouted and began to ejaculate. He pumped Brian hard, then slumped to his chest. His hand trailed his lover's ribs and came to rest on his thigh. 

 

Despite Justin's assurances, Brian spent the day anxious and unable to concentrate on much of anything. Early in the morning he'd called Drew to try and set up an appointment. Luckily Becker had a cancellation and was able to fit Brian into a one o'clock slot.

"What's up?"

Brian told him succinctly what had happened and when he finished, he added, quite unnecessarily, "I don't know what to do."

"Which is why you're here."

"It kind of freaked me out, at first, having a kid. The night he was born, I almost lost it. All I could think was this meant I was officially old. On the decline. And then Lindsay had to go out of town and she wanted me to keep him and I fucked it up cause… cause I did and while she was reaming me out, my dad came over to bring me this picture of him and me when I was a baby and it hit me, that Gus was my immortality, same as my old man's. Gus was this part of me that would go on living and maybe he would have kids and they would have a part of me inside them. I could see that in my dad's eyes when he looked at Gus." Brian had taken that picture of himself and his dad to the cemetery after his suicide attempt along with his award for the HIV awareness campaign and the videotape of his trip to NYC with Cam. He'd hoped to dispel all of the negative feelings associated with them. Most days he felt that he'd succeeded. He was no longer haunted by his dad and Cam. Not that he still didn't have problems galore. Hence his visit to Drew.

"What does Justin say about the situation?"

"He says I should give them a few days to calm down and then talk to them again, that they'll see reason. But what if they don't?"

"You would still be able to see Gus."

"Supervised visits."

"Have you thought of taking legal action?"

"I have no legal rights. I signed them over to Mel."

"Still, most courts respect the rights of the biological parents, regardless."

Brian chuckled ruefully. "Doc, they'd take one look at the four of us: two dykes and two queers, and they'd send Gus as far away from us as possible." He shook his head, suddenly serious. "I couldn't do that to him. Or to Lindsay. It would kill her. I couldn't hurt her like that."

"Then I would suggest you take Justin's advice: wait until they calm down and talk it out. If you like, I could even facilitate."

Blinking rapidly, he took a deep breath and released it. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost him."

Drew moved to the edge of his seat, in reach of Brian and took hold of his knee. "You won't."

"I'm so tired of fighting," he confessed.

"Fighting Lindsay?"

"Everything. It's always so hard. Nothing's ever easy. I thought things were settled between me and Justin and they weren't, I thought things were settled with Lindsay and they're not." He looked away, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"It'll be all right. You'll see. You won't lose your son."

"I can't."

"You won't."

He sniffled and wiped his face and laughed abruptly.

"What?"

"All I seem to do is come here and fuckin' cry."

"Maybe you feel safe here."

"Maybe it's your cologne," joked Brian and Drew shook his knee hard and released him.

"Crocodile tears." 

 

They'd agreed to meet at this café not far from the Institute to exchange gifts and to have one last meal together before Xavier and Rennie headed their separate ways for the holidays. Daphne would have come but she and her latest boyfriend had decided to spend a few days together until Christmas which they both had to spend with their respective families. He missed her, they'd only talked on the phone for so much of the semester that he felt like he hadn't seen her in ages. Well, she'd be back after Christmas and they'd get to hang out for a few days before he and Brian took off for the inn to celebrate their first anniversary. Meanwhile, he still had Xavier and Rennie.

"Well Marsha and Cindy—can you fuckin' believe that?" Rennie asked. "Anyway they've decided to move out into an apartment so I've got the suite to myself until they shift someone else into it. Maybe I'll get lucky and I'll only have one other roommate."

Xavier snorted. "Don't count on it. I wish I could afford to live off-campus. My roommates are driving me crazy."

Justin said, "Why don't you two live together? Must be plenty of cheap places near the Institute."

"My scholarship won't cover it," Xavier explained.

"My parents would freak," added Rennie.

"Tell them he's gay."

She cut her eyes at him. "Like that would help."

"So it's on-campus hell for us," said Xavier. "You're lucky."

Rennie sighed, "Yeah," and the two guys knew she wasn't just talking about the apartment, she was talking about his having Brian.

"How is His Big and Badness?" Xavier found that it was easier to talk about Brian if he kept it light.

"Okay."

They'd sensed his hesitation. "Trouble in paradise again?" asked Rennie.

"Gus." He paused. "Lindsay told us we could have him two weekends out of the month and when we had him Sunday he got hurt and—"

"Is he okay?" Rennie had fallen for the little boy.

"He's fine. Just bumped his arm. But Lindsay and Melanie went off the deep end and now they say they're not going to let us keep him anymore."

"Fuck," said Xavier. "I bet Brian's about to lose it."

"He loves Gus. I don't know what he'd do if they tried to keep Gus away from him."

"They'd let him see Gus, wouldn’t they?" Rennie asked, not believing they'd be so unforgiving.

"Yeah, but they wouldn't let us keep him anymore. We'd go back to the same old shit: an hour here and there and it's not fair. Gus loves Brian."

"Loves you too," Xavier added. He'd seen the little boy with both of them back before things had gotten completely fucked and knew how much the baby loved his Pooh.

"I was the one who talked Brian into giving up his rights to Gus. He won't admit it but I know I helped change his mind. I feel like such an idiot because now he doesn’t have any legal grounds to contest what they're doing."

"He say anything to you?" He still felt protective of Justin although he knew that of all of them, Justin could take care of himself the best.

"No. He won't. He won't blame me, he'll only blame himself. He won't even blame them and it's their fault. He takes all of this shit on his shoulders and…"

"Hey, J, it'll work out. You'll see."

Justin frowned. "I just want him to be happy."

Xavier knew what he was thinking. That they had caused Brian much unhappiness. Still, in the end, Justin had returned to Brian and they were together. "He is. He's with you."

Rennie looked from Xavier to Justin. Even though things were over between them and they'd both moved on, at odd moments she felt the love between them that could never be erased, not entirely. "Xavier's right. And you'll see. Mel and Lindsay won't be able to keep Gus from Brian. He'll drive them crazy calling for him."

Justin laughed. "That's true."

She checked her watch. "Okay, boys, let's get a move on. I've got to pack. My flight leaves at like midnight tonight." 

 

Justin placed his gifts beneath the tree unopened, wanting to save them for Christmas Day. He really needed to go out and buy something for Brian but he didn't know what to get him. Plus, their anniversary was five days after Christmas and he needed to find something for that too. He wondered what Brian was getting him. Of course, anything Brian bought him would be fine but what he really wanted was a car. Brian had hinted that he was thinking about buying him one since he was tired of sharing the Jeep but so far nothing had come of their sparse discussions. Too much had been going on for them to really concentrate on anything. Like the house. When were they going to go looking? Brian said once the new year started he'd have more time but Justin despaired of him ever having time enough.

Time. It was the one thing they couldn’t get more of and the one thing they needed more than anything else. Except for one another. Justin opened his sketch pad to the drawing he'd done of Brian Sunday afternoon. He could see him seated at his computer, a crease between his brows, worried about what Lindz and Mel would say, and rightly so it'd turned out. Justin traced the line of his jaw, feeling Brian's face beneath his finger. In the beginning he'd been fearless in his love for Brian; and then he learned to be wary of his feelings, suspect; and now, now he knew that love was something precious that had to be nurtured and protected, but he was secure in his love for him.

Glancing at the time, he put away the sketch and turned his thoughts to dinner. Only his mind kept returning to Gus and his absence. The loft felt empty without him, without his laughter, the sound of him running across the floor, of him calling to Brian, him singing to Beh, his "Jusin!"

Aware that he might be making a huge mistake, Justin grabbed his backpack and ran to catch the bus. 

 

Lindsay opened the door to find him standing on the porch. Pausing, she moved aside and let him in. "Gus is asleep."

"I figured," he said. "Can we talk?"

She led him to the livingroom and offered him a seat. "Mel's still at work."

"So's Brian." He didn't know where to begin.

"I know what you're going to say."

"Maybe. But I have to say it anyway. I understand your being concerned about Gus. But you have to know that Brian would give his life for him. He'd never let anything happen to Gus. It was an accident, Lindsay. We're always careful."

"Justin…"

"You're punishing us because we're not omnipotent."

"No. This isn't about punishing anyone."

"But you are. You're punishing us and you're punishing Gus."

"You'll understand when you have a child of your own."

And that hurt the most, so much that he almost left then but he stayed, for Brian. For Brian and Gus. "I know that Gus isn't mine. But I love him too."

"Justin… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Brian loves Gus more than anyone in this world."

"No. There's someone he loves more."

He smiled softly. "Maybe. But Gus is a part of him. One of the best parts of him. Don't take that away."

"He can still see Gus."

"But only when you're there. So you're telling Brian that you don't trust him. He…" Justin paused, then began again. "He blames himself for everything. His mistakes, mine, yours. Anything goes wrong, it's his fault and he can't keep doing that, Lindsay. It's killing him." Unable to stop it, a tear ran down his cheek. "Please. I know that you're only trying to protect Gus but…" He sniffled. "I have to protect Brian. Give us another chance."

That he was here without Brian told her that Brian knew nothing about this attempt to sway her opinion. She could imagine what Brian would say when he found out, if it backfired. That Justin was willing to take that risk…

Suddenly they heard a rattling upstairs. Gus had awakened and was standing at the security gate at the top of the stairs, shaking it to get Lindsay's attention. "Mommy!"

"I'm coming." She walked up. "Guess who's come to see you?" she asked him as she opened the gate and carried him downstairs.

Justin waited at the bottom.

"Jusin!"

The teen took him from Lindsay and kissed him. "Hey."

Gus kissed him and rubbed his nose. "Where Daddy?"

"He's at work."

"Go see Daddy."

"Not today," Justin replied. "I…"

Lindsay rubbed Gus' back. Made a quick decision. "This weekend. You can see Daddy this weekend. Okay?"

"Okay."

Quietly, to Justin she said, "Let me talk to Mel."

Justin nodded. "Thanks, Lindsay." 

 

The loft was empty when he got home although there were signs that Justin had been there. His sketchpad was on the sofa and there were presents under the tree, gifts that hadn't been there when he left that morning. A cookbook lay opened on the counter. Curious, he went to change and to wait for Justin to return from wherever he had gone.

Having put on an old pair of sweats, he decided to hit the treadmill for a little while. He'd skipped the gym today, not in the mood for it but he felt restless. Running always made him feel better, burning off the excess energy and putting him in a trance-like state where he didn't think about anything but the next stride, the next quarter mile.

Justin pushed open the door and saw him running on the treadmill, his slender body racing towards an unknown point. Closing it gently, he stood with his back against the cool metal and watched Brian run. Followed a bead of perspiration that emerged from beneath his hair, trickled down between his shoulders, and disappeared into the waistband of his sweats.

After a few minutes he became aware of another presence in the loft. Cutting off the treadmill, he stopped running and turned around. "Hey."

Justin pushed off from the door. "Hey."

"Where'd you go?"

"Out."

Brian raised a brow and smirked. "Looking for my Christmas present?" After all Christmas was next week.

"Yeah," Justin replied, crossing the floor to where he stood. Despite the glistening sweat on Brian's body, Justin embraced him.

Teasing, Brian asked, "Was that it?"

"Shut up." He released him and pulled off his coat, tossed it on the sofa and went into the kitchen. Started flipping through the cookbook he'd left open.

Figuring he'd get no more from the teen, Brian headed for the bathroom to shower. He'd find out eventually.

They turned on the Christmas tree lights, lit the votives and tapers placed around the apartment, turned off the other lamps, and had dinner by candlelight. Held hands across the table and talked about this restaurant they'd gone to in Paris which, in turn, led them to talk about other restaurants they'd visited and meals they'd had on their trip to Europe which, in turn, led them to talk about the trip in general and their favorite parts and moments they'd thought they'd forgotten but which they never really would have forgotten, even if they lived to be a thousand.

After putting everything away and loading the dishwasher, they curled up on the sofa and watched the lights flicker on the tree. Sipping hot chocolate spiked with rum. Brian had his in the #1 Dad mug Justin had given him for Christmas last year. Tried not to think about Gus and how much he was missing him.

"The stuff I ordered online should get here in a couple of days," he said. "Otherwise, the tree's gonna look pretty bare."

"I don't care. It's still beautiful."

"So what are you getting me for Christmas?"

"I haven't decided yet." Truth was, he had no idea what he was going to give Brian. Decided to try the direct approach. "What do you want?"

"Mmm… N—"

"And don’t say nothing. I mean it. What do you want for Christmas?"

Brian studied his mug. Justin drew closer to him and held him tighter. If Lindsay kept her word, Brian would get his wish.

 

 

Raising the blind to let in extra light, Justin sat back down at this easel and resumed working on the sketch he'd begun. Although he could have worked at home, he liked coming to the studio, especially now that Bledsoe had gone home for the holidays. He liked having a place he could call his own where he could work without distractions. Brian had promised that their new place would have room for a studio and he couldn't wait to set it up. Maybe in a sunroom, with huge windows and a glass roof to bathe the entire space in natural light. He smiled, thinking of it, then turned once more to his work.

It was a drawing of Brian and Gus, the two of them asleep on the sofa, Gus snuggled up in his daddy's arms. Justin had found them that way once, the toddler's copy of Winnie-the-Pooh forgotten on Brian's thigh, both having succumbed to the need for an afternoon nap. He'd tiptoed to the bedroom and gotten his camera and taken a couple of pictures, hoping they wouldn't stir. They hadn't, too tightly ensnared in their individual dreams. Or perhaps they shared a dream.

Laying down his pencil, he studied the photograph. They were so beautiful, his two men as he thought of them, and he was lucky to have them in his life, to share his life, sharing their lives with him. He imagined them on their tenth anniversary, Gus a big boy of eleven, him twenty-eight-years old, almost the age Brian had been when they'd met. Brian would be forty, embarking on yet another stage in his life. God, if his fortieth birthday was anything like his thirtieth, watch out world. Justin grinned. Brian could be such a Drama Queen. He tried to imagine Brian at forty: streaks of grey in his hair, maybe a few pounds heavier, a pair of silver spectacles perched on his nose, still strong, still sexy as hell. That would never change.

A knock jolted him out of his reverie. He put down the photo he was holding and called out, "Come in," expecting to see one his professors. Never in a million years would he have guessed Kenneth Harris was at the door.

Harris glanced around as he came inside the studio. He knew that Justin had been caught off guard and wanted to give the young man time to recover and regroup. This wasn't a sneak attack. He just wanted to talk to Justin. "I suppose you're surprised to see me here."

Justin gave a chuckle. "Looking for Brian?"

"No. Looking for you. I dropped by the loft and no one was home so I figured you'd be here."

"What can I do for you?" He was unused to having anything to do with Kenneth outside of their connection to Brian and after the stunt Kenneth had pulled in LA and its affect on their relationship, he wasn't quite certain how he felt about the man.

Kenneth gestured at the drawing of Gus and Brian. "You're very talented."

"Thanks."

"But, then again, you know that. Or you wouldn't be here."

"I suppose."

:"You could go far."

"I hope." What was this? Career Counseling 101?

"Have the world at your feet. If you work hard, take advantage of opportunities."

"Such as?"

"Won't always be easy. Balancing a private life with work."

"Never is." Was that Harris' game? To intimidate him into giving up Brian because it'd be hard to have both a professional and private life? That was a pretty lame strategy.

"Artists' lives are sometimes difficult."

"So are some artists," Justin hinted.

Harris figured he'd better get to the point before Justin lost patience with him. "Brian sent me a portfolio of your friends' work. Thought I'd be interested."

"I remember."

"Well, I am. But he didn't send me any of yours. That was a mistake."

"So you're here to do what?" _No fucking way._ "Offer me some kind of Faustian bargain? My work for Brian? Even exchange?"

Kenneth laughed. "No. I came to see Brian while you two were separated and he made it clear that he still loved you and that he'd do anything to get you back. And he did. I'm happy for him."

"Really?"

"Brian and I are business associates. I'd like to be his friend if I could."

Still an angle. "And you think buying my art will get you on his good side?"

"No, I think buying your art would be a good investment." He studied the portrait of Brian and Gus. "That's a perfect likeness."

Justin watched a gleam appear in Harris' eyes. "What were you interested in?" Kenneth glanced at him, a smile playing about his lips as if he suspected Justin of being facetious or coy. Justin laughed. "I feel a little like a pimp."

"It's art."

"You want me to draw you a picture of Brian?"

"A series. Whatever poses you want. Clothed or nude, I don't care. It's up to you."

Again Justin laughed. "For your office or home?"

"Does it matter? You've got the real thing. Why begrudge me a picture or two?"

"Can I tell him?"

"I hope so. I hope you'll come and help hang them. Pick out the best places for them."

"You're serious."

"You're a gifted artist with a beautiful model. Titian, Picasso, Bacon, they all had their muses, their models, and they made wonderful art together."

"He may refuse."

"Maybe. If so, then forget it. Only if he agrees."

"How many?"

"Six. I'll make it very worth your time and effort I assure you."

"All right. You've got yourself a deal." He held out his hand.

Before he took it, Kenneth said again, "Only if Brian agrees."

They shook hands. "He'll agree." 

 

"You did what?" Brian asked as they set the table for dinner. Mikey and Jeff were coming over and were due any minute.

"I said I'd do six drawings of you."

Kenneth hadn't had time to stay over, needing to be back in Birmingham that evening but he'd left Justin his card to contact him once he and Brian had discussed the proposal.

"I feel… a little weird about this," admitted Brian.

"It's my first commission," Justin explained. "Please."

"What if he jacks off looking at em?"

"I'm sure he jacks off thinking about you as is."

"True."

"Brian!"

"You said it."

Justin placed the last napkin on the table. "Look, I don't care what he does with the drawings. As long as he pays me for them."

"What's my cut?" He filled the water glasses.

"Your cut?"

"Yeah. I'm the model, right?"

"Standard sitting fee." Justin placed the wine bottle on the table. A Merlot. "And immortality. One day your dick might be famous."

"It already is."

"As a work of art."

"Ditto."

Shaking his head, Justin said, "You're so vain."

Brian smiled. "One of my finer points." 

 

"So," Brian said over dinner, "Justin got a commission to draw naked pictures of me."

The artist promptly started to choke on his asparagus. "They don't have to be nude drawings," he explained indignantly.

"Who commissioned them?" asked Jeff.

"Kenneth Harris." Brian beamed.

"The same Kenneth Harris who tried to break you up?" asked Michael.

"Yeah."

Jeff grinned. "And you don't mind drawing pictures of your lover for a guy who has the hots for him?"

"His money's green," replied Justin. "What the patron does with my art is of no concern to me."

"What if he uses the drawings to cast some kind of voodoo spell on Brian?" joked Michael. "To make Brian want him?"

"I'll tie him down at night," replied Justin.

"Kinky," added Brian. "So have you decided how you're going to draw me?"

"No. But I'll be sure to get your good side."

"He has a good side?" teased Jeff. "I thought he was all bad."

"He can be good when he wants to be, isn't that right, Pookie?"

Brian growled, "Don't call me Pookie."

Michael made a face across the table. "I think it suits you. Pookie."

"And what was Keith's nickname for you?" Brian threatened.

"Don't."

"Who's Keith?" Jeff wanted to know.

"Nobody," Michael answered.

"Michael's first real boyfriend. Keith the Cunt," Brian told him.

Shaking his head, Michael confessed, "I have never been so glad to get rid of a boyfriend. I would have chewed off my own leg to get away from him."

This being the first time he'd heard of him, Jeff was curious. "What was wrong with him?"

"He was such a jerk. Except that in the beginning he acted like he was all saintly and shit, like he was the perfect guy, and then he totally changed."

"Revealed his inner cunt," Brian said.

Jeff grinned. "So what was his nickname for Michael?"

"He called him…"

"Don't," begged Michael.

"Ah," said Brian, "let him have a couple of secrets."

Kissing him, Justin told them, "Didn't I say he had a good side? That's my Pookie." 

 

While Justin showed Jeff some of the results of his experiments with computer graphics, Michael helped Brian clean up.

"Isn't this kind of weird?"

"What?"

"Us doing couples stuff. Never in a million fucking years would I have imagined you married with a kid."

"What can I say? Guess I didn't run fast enough. He caught me."

"You let him. I know how much you love him."

Brian smiled and scraped out another plate. "He'll do. For another fifty, sixty years."

"One day you two will be granddads."

"Shut the fuck up."

"You know you're gonna love it. Grandpa Brian, terror of the neighborhood."

"Pinching all the teenaged boys." They laughed at that image because they knew it'd be true.

"So I bet Gus is really excited about Christmas."

"I guess."

He seemed a little subdued. "Something wrong?"

"He fell while he was here and bruised his arm and the Munchers freaked out and said that we couldn't keep him on the weekends anymore."

"That's not fair."

"Fuck fairness. They can do whatever they want and there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"They wouldn’t even have Gus if it weren't for you. Did you tell them that?"

"They know that, Mikey."

"So? What are you gonna do?"

He shrugged. "Wait. See if they come around. Not much else I can do." He started the dishwasher. "Look, I need you to do me a favor."

"Sure."

"I'll tell you later," he said as Justin and Jeff returned from the livingroom.

"Listen, I gotta go," said Jeff. "Guys, thanks for dinner." To Michael, "You coming with me?"

"Yeah." He grabbed his coat. "Later."

Brian and Justin walked them to the door. Waved as they clumped down the stairs. Brian cut off the main lights while Justin saw to the tree and the candles. They met at the bedroom entrance. Kissed on the steps.

"So they looked pretty happy," Justin said.

"Yeah. Maybe Mikey's worrying for nothing."

Justin wrinkled his nose. "It's weird, us being the role models for someone else."

"Role models?" Brian snorted. "I don't think so."

"We're committed, we've got a family, and we're about to go looking for a new house."

Brian paused taking off his clothes. "Guess we are. Huh."

Sliding up behind him, Justin embraced him. "So how does it feel?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

Justin stroked Brian's hip and chest. "Feels pretty good." 

 

At the rap on the doorframe, Harlan looked up to see Brian Kinney standing there with a black portfolio under his arm. "Going door-to-door now?" he joked. "You know we can't afford you." Actually, Brian had done some ad work for them a while back at a drastically reduced rate. Harlan never did figure out why because everybody knew that Brian Kinney didn't believe in community service because he didn't believe in belonging to any community. Still, he'd done the ad for Woody's at a slashed rate and it'd been a damn good one too. Bastard was talented. And successful. Which was why Harlan couldn't understand why he was in his office.

"Actually," Brian said, "this isn't my work." He gestured to a chair.

"Please."

"I've discovered this talented new designer. Thought you might use her to, ah, decorate the bar for the annual New Year's Eve Party."

"Her, huh? Well, least I know it's not of your cast-offs."

"I'm a married man, Harlan." Flashed his ring. "Ball and chain and everything."

Harlan laughed. "You're not suffering. I've seen the goods."

"Look but don't touch," warned Brian.

"Me? Put the moves on Brian Kinney's little boy? Outta my league."

Brian opened Joanie's portfolio. "These aren't."

As he flipped through the photos, Harlan made sounds of appreciation. Then, "The infamous loft. How come I never got an invite?"

Leaning back in his chair, Brian flashed his famous shit eatin' grin. "Harlan… So little time, so many men."

Again Harlan laughed. Charming bastard at that too. There was a time he would have done or given almost anything to fuck Brian but Brian didn't do old and at forty Harlan was definitely in the old category in Brian's mind. Even though he'd been younger when they first met, he had still been off Brian's radar as far as the younger man had been concerned. "So, these are good. Who is she? Some dyke?"

"My mom."

Harlan's eyes widened. _Shit._

"I do have one, believe it or not."

Once he got over the initial shock, Harlan got back to the proposition at hand. "And she'd be willing to do the job?"

"Depends on what kind of deal you can offer her."

Harlan spread his hands over the portfolio. "She's not in your league but she's good." Closed it. "Send her around. We'll talk details."

As he rose, Brian held out his hand. "Harlan, you're a sweetheart."

"About the loft?" Harlan asked.

"It'll be on the market soon," he told him. "Maybe I can arrange a private showing," he teased.

And Harlan chuckled as he left because he was quite certain that, most unnecessarily, there would probably be two hosts at the private showing. But Justin had no worries. If ever he had seen a happily married man, he'd just shaken hands with him. 

 

In an instant his apron was folded and placed in the back and he'd snagged his coat from the rack. Brian had pulled up out front and was waiting. Justin waved to Deb. "Later."

"Tell Brian I said hi," she called as he pushed through the door.

He pulled the door closed and leaned in for a kiss. "Hey."

"Hey." Brian shifted gears and took off, snow flying from beneath the Jeep's tires. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I dunno." He had visions of a gloomy evening at home, missing Gus.

"Wanna go out?"

Justin brightened. "Dinner and dancing. The whole nine yards."

"Works for me. Got a new red sweater I've been dying to wear." Since Gus wasn't coming over this weekend there was no point in saying home. Might as well paint the town red and get totally buzzed like the old days. So much for sober parenthood. They were a couple of carefree guys with time to kill.

They started stripping as soon as they hit the livingroom, shedding their work clothes and heading for the shower. Justin, having stood on his feet for an eight hour shift, was beat. He leaned against Brian and let the water rejuvenate him while his lover soaped him languorously. Turning in Brian's arms, the teen lay his head upon his chest as the man lathered his hair, his long, slender fingers gently massaging Justin's scalp, rubbing the nape of his neck, kneading his shoulders, tenderly working out each kink until the younger man was completely relaxed.

"That feels good," he whispered, giving Brian a tiny kiss above his heart.

"You sure you're up to going out?"

"Maybe I'll take a little nap first."

Brian turned off the water and opened the door. "Come on."

They dried off and climbed naked into the bed, and shut their eyes. 

 

"What?" Brian muttered as he woke. "Shit." Someone was at the door. What time was it?

"What time is it?" Justin asked, waking.

"I don’t know." He snatched his robe from the foot of the bed and went to see who it was, shaking his head to clear it of cobwebs and the tendrils of a dream. Ten steps behind him was Justin, shrugging on his robe as well. He pulled open the door. "Yeah."

"Daddy!"

Brian lifted Gus and hugged him. "Hey, Sonny Boy." Raised a brow at Mel and Lindz who stood carrying Beh, his red fire engine, and his SpongeBob backpack. "What's going on?"

At a look from Lindz, Mel explained. "It's your weekend to have him." She raised the backpack. "Can we come in? I feel a little stupid carrying this thing."

He moved to the side and kissed Gus again. The toddler rubbed noses with him, then looked around at Justin and reached for him.

"Jusin."

Taking him, Justin gave him a big kiss. "I am so glad to see you."

"See you," giggled Gus.

Brian shut the door and then joined the women in the livingroom. They were perched on the edge of the sofa.

Lindsay began. "We owe you an apology. We completely overreacted and I'm sorry. We're both sorry." She turned to Mel.

"Yeah. Sorry. I know that both of you love Gus and it was wrong of us to punish you for something you had no control over." She paused and added, "Especially since we wouldn’t even have Gus if it weren't for you."

"Just," said Lindsay, "try to be careful. You have to watch him every minute."

"I know," said Brian.

"And we'll try to be less protective of him. I know he's a little boy and that little boys are rough so," she shrugged, "we'll just have to get used to it."

"I would never let anything happen to him," Brian promised. "You know that."

"I know. And I trust you," she added. "You're a good father." She swept her eyes over Justin holding the baby. "You both are."

The teen smiled and blushed. It was the first time anyone had even acknowledged out loud just how important he was to Gus' life. He knew that Brian thought of him as a partner and a co-parent but to hear Lindsay say it validated it somehow. "Thanks, Lindsay."

Mel stood and ruffled his hair. "I guess you're the one who's been teaching him to dance."

Justin laughed and put Gus down. "Show us your moves, Gus. Dance for us." He sang, "I been up all night, I might sleep all day…" and Gus began to bop and twist in imitation of Justin and to wriggle his hips in a very suggestive manner for a two-year-old.

Lindsay covered her mouth and laughed. "Oh my word…"

Mel frowned. "Christ. I do not want our son growing up to be a go-go boy in Babylon. We'll be scandalized."

As if he understood, Gus ran to Brian and hid his face, giggling, and Brian raised him up and kissed him again. "I love you." He lived for scandals.

"I luv you, Daddy." 

 

After the Mommies left, the boys ordered pizza and watched Wimzie's House until the delivery guy arrived. Justin got an old blanket from the linen closet and spread it on the floor and they dined in front of the television while Gus tried to explain to Brian what the puppets were doing.

When dinner was over, they cleaned up and played cars, Justin pushing Gus on his fire engine while the toddler took pictures with his play camera. Brian posed for them around the loft: draped himself over the chaise lounge a la Lana Turner and pretended to cook like Emeril in the kitchen, he danced with Justin and played peek-a-boo beneath the covers, all to Gus' great amusement.

Just before the baby was ready for bed, Brian carried him to the window and they watched the snow fall.

"Snowfakes," said Gus.

"Snowflakes."

"Daddy, where snow?"

Which Brian understood to mean, "Where did snow come from?" He pointed to the sky. "It comes from the clouds. Like rain. Remember rain?" Gus nodded. "Rain comes from the clouds and so does snow."

 _Look up my darling_  
Way up high  
At the clouds above you *

Gus patted Brian's arm. "Go clouds, Daddy."

Brian smiled. "One day we will. We'll go up in an big airplane and see the clouds. Okay?"

" 'kay." And then he fell silent, satisfied, and watched the snow fall, his head cradled on Brian's chest, cause if Daddy said they would go see the clouds, they would.

_My heart's a window darling_  
If you look inside  
You'll see how I think of you 

That night, once Gus was safely tucked away in bed, Brian and Justin sat on the floor with their backs against the sofa and talked.

"I wonder what happened to make them change their minds," Brian said.

And Justin never told him what he'd done. All he said was, "They calmed down and they saw reason. And I bet Gus drove them crazy begging to see you every five minutes."

"Probably," agreed Brian, chuckling. "He's not shy about getting his needs met."

"Wonder who he got that from?"

Brian glanced at the clock. A year ago they would have been at Babylon dancing the night away. He laughed. "It's official. We're an old married couple."

Justin snuggled closer. "Yeah," he agreed, satisfaction in his voice. 

 

Sun streamed in through the window, tickling Gus' nose. He woke and yawned and patted Justin's back. "Jusin." He got to his feet unsteadily and pushed down on Justin's arm. "Jusin."

The teen woke and turned over. "Hey."

"I got go pee."

Justin rose and carried him into the bathroom and put him up on his foot stool. Gus peed with great relief and flushed the commode. "Finised."

"Good boy." Justin wiped his hands. "Still sleepy?" Gus shook his head. "You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"How about some juice and a bowl of cereal? That okay?"

" 'kay." Gus followed Justin to the kitchen and waited patiently as the young man prepared his breakfast.

Justin sat with Gus while the toddler ate, checking every so often to see if the coffee had finished dripping. Maybe the smell of it would wake Brian. If not, that was fine too. He probably needed the sleep. Gus was busy munching a mouthful of Raisin Bran. "That good?"

"Good." He picked out a piece of banana and ate it and smiled. Offered Justin one. "Here."

Justin took it and ate it. "Thank you." He kissed the toddler. "I love you. You know that?"

"I luv you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Gus giggled. Silly Pooh. Of course he loved him. He gave Justin another piece of banana. 

 

Joanie peered through the curtains and watched Brian, Justin, and Gus play in the snow, throwing snowballs at one another and laughing. The baby was surprisingly steady on his feet, bending to pick up a handful of snow and to throw it without losing his balance. He was a little too impatient to actually form a ball first, preferring to throw it as soon as he had the snow in hand which meant he sometimes got a face of the white stuff if the wind was blowing against him. But he didn't care. He laughed and ran and played with his two daddies until all three were exhausted.

During an apparent rest break, Joanie stepped to the front door and called to them. "I've got cookies and hot chocolate. Who wants some cookies?"

"You want some cookies, Gus?" asked Brian.

"Yeah!" he said, jumping.

Justin laughed. "Gus, how does a frog jump?"

And Gus jumped forward and jumped forward again. "Ribbit, ribbit." He dropped to his knees, too tired to jump any further, and Brian picked him up.

"I think our little frog needs refueling. How about some flies?

"No!" Gus shouted. "Cookies."

"That's right," said Joanie, holding the door open. "Nana made cookies for her boys." She waited for Justin to come inside. "All of them."

Gus' chocolate wasn't really hot, more like lukewarm, but he enjoyed it nonetheless, dunking his cookies in his mug like Justin and being extra careful to hold his cup in both hands when he drank the way his Daddy showed him. After he finished he left the table and wandered around the livingroom until he came to the couch. Crawling onto it, he laid down and closed his eyes. In a few minutes he was asleep.

Brian checked on him and drew an afghan over the sleeping toddler. "He'll be wide awake the rest of the day now. And I was hoping to catch a nap myself this afternoon."

"You still can," Justin told him. "I'll watch Gus. Youth has its advantages," he teased.

"Don’t worry," Brian reminded him, "you'll be twenty in another month and then we'll see."

"See how I'm still younger and faster than you?"

Joanie laughed. "Be glad that he is. A two-year-old takes a lot of work. Especially one like Gus. He's a little Energizer Bunny."

"Was Brian like that at his age?"

"Exactly like that. Into everything. One day he got into the kitchen cabinets before his father and I woke up and started banging on the pots and pans. I thought Jack would have a heart attack." She grinned. "And there was Brian, wondering what all the fuss was about."

Brian nudged Justin. "I bet your mom has some stories she could tell about you."

"Don't worry. We've got to go by there today. I'm sure she'll tell you all of them. And drag out the pictures. But," he added, "Molly was ten times worse than I was."

"Uh-huh. Molly? She's a sweetheart."

Justin cackled. "That's cause she loves you."

"So do you."

Softly he smiled. "That I do."

Brian popped a cookie in his mouth and chewed. "So, Mom—"

"Don’t talk with your mouth full."

"He's had plenty of practice," Justin told her, grinning.

"So, Mom," Brian said once he'd finished eating, "you think you can do something with Woody's?"

She'd gone around to see Harlan on her own. Brian had told her it'd be better that way, look more professional. She'd been a little nervous about going to a gay bar by herself but then she just imagined that all of the people there were just like Brian and Justin and their friends and she'd relaxed and been able to hold a meeting with Harlan. "Well, he doesn't want to spend a lot of money but I think we can figure something out."

"The fee's okay?"

"Oh, yes. I'm just thrilled to be working."

Brian groaned. "You didn't tell him that?"

"I told him I could fit him into my schedule," she smiled.

Brian laughed. "Good for you. Never sell yourself cheap."

"Yeah," said Justin. "Always hold out for the Armani."

Leaning over to give him a kiss, Brian said, "Good boy. You deserve an A+." 

 

Gus was still asleep when they left Joanie's and he slept all the way to the grocery store and then he woke up just as Justin was about to leave the Jeep. "I want go," he said sleepily.

"You don't want to stay in the car with Daddy?" Brian asked.

"No. Go with Jusin. You go, Daddy."

Brian sighed. "There goes my twenty winks."

Dreading the noise, Brian and Justin were pleasantly surprised when Gus behaved like a perfect angel, sitting in the basket and naming foods as they passed the displays. "Apple, orange. Grape. Tato."

Brian lifted a bunch of celery. "What's this?"

"Brian." Justin bumped him. "How would he know what that is?"

"Celry," said Gus.

"That's my boy. Genius," bragged Brian.

Gus pointed to the next vegetable. "Carrot."

"Good for you," Brian told him.

"Yeah."

A dark-haired man watched them. He said to his companion, "That's Brian Kinney. Used to be the hottest stud on Liberty Avenue. Now he's got a kid and he's in a relationship. Check out the rings."

Justin and Brian overhead him. Brian pretended not to have, but the teenager wandered near the two men and said sotto voce, "He's still the hottest stud on Liberty Avenue or any avenue, street, or road you can find. He can work all day, read his son a bedtime story, and still find the energy to fuck me 'til the sun comes up cause he's a real man. You should find yourself one. He's taken." Leaving them open-mouthed, he rejoined his family and the three continued down the aisle. 

 

"Hey, Mom," Justin said as he hugged Jennifer.

"How long has it been?" She released him and touched Brian's arm. "Hello, Brian."

"Merry Christmas."

"And look at this little angel." She stroked Gus' cheek. "Hi. Do you remember me?"

"Don't you remember Justin's mom, Gus? Remember Jennifer? Justin's mom?"

"Yeah." He looked at Brian. "Nana?"

Brian nodded. "Nana Jenn."

Gus reached for Jennifer and she took him and hugged him. "Oh, you are an angel, aren't you?" And he kissed her and laughed.

"He's just trying to get more cookies," Brian warned.

"Cookies, Nana Jen."

Jennifer kissed him. "I think I can find a cookie for Gus." She carried him into the kitchen leaving Brian and Justin in the livingroom.

"That was really sweet of you," Justin told Brian.

"What?"

"Telling Gus she was his Nana."

"She is. He's got at least two grandmothers who claim him. And two mommies and two daddies."

Justin embraced him. "Just when I think I can't love you anymore, you do something like this… and I realize that I've got a whole other reason for loving you even more." 

 

Molly ran in, having come from her friend's house and seen the Jeep in the yard. She paused shyly on the threshold of the livingroom. "Hi, Brian. Hi, Justin. Gus!" And she ran forward, shyness forgotten, and hugged the baby. "Hi, Gus. Can you say hi?"

"Hey."

"Say Hi, Molly."

"Hi, Mollee."

Justin leaned into Brian. "I think you've been replaced."

"Well, he is younger and faster."

"I like you just the way you are."

"Old and slow?" joked Brian.

"I meant what I said in the store." He squeezed Brian's knee. "And I plan on holding you to it tonight."

"What about Mini-Me?"

"We'll tire him out and put him to bed and then we can play."

"It's a date."

Seeing that they were through with their private exchange, Jennifer said, "Justin, honey, your grandmother has been asking for you. She really wants to see you."

"I really want to see her too."

"Molly and I are driving up on Monday."

"Mom…" He didn't even look at Brian. "I can't." Why can't she understand?

Brian raised his head from looking down at Gus and Molly. "Maybe we can all drive up next year. Gus can meet his great grandmother."

Jenn looked surprised. "Do you mean that?"

"Yeah. Maybe for Thanksgiving. Mel and Lindz could probably be persuaded to let him out of their sight for a day or two."

"That, that would be wonderful."

"Of course," Brian added, "there's a price."

Jennifer looked puzzled. "Yes?"

"Our house. We need an agent. I hear you're good."

With a flash of Justin's confidence, she replied, "I'm the best."

Brian smiled. "Then we came to the right place."

Justin reached for Brian's hand and held it, saying nothing. _Another reason to love you even more…_

"Okay, Gus," said Justin, "let's do your colors." He put five colored blocks in front of the toddler and pointed to the first one. "What color is that?"

"Red."

"Good. And this one?"

"Yello."

"And this one?"

"Blu."

"What about this one?" It was another red one.

"Red."

"And one more."

"Green."

"Good boy. You got all of them right. You deserve a big hug." Gus stood and Justin hugged him. "You are so smart. Did you know that?"

"Yeah."

"And handsome. Did you know that?"

Gus giggled. "Yeah." He wriggled in Justin's arms, tickled by all the attention and praise.

"And sweet. And good. And very very special. Did you know you were all those things?"

"Yeah!" laughed Gus. He rubbed his face against Justin's and hugged the teen's neck even tighter. "Daddy Jusin."

"You want Daddy?"

"No," said Gus. "Daddy Jusin."

Justin began to understand and he thought his heart would expand beyond the limit of his chest. He pointed to himself. "Who am I, Gus?"

"Daddy Jusin."

He pointed to the room where Brian napped. "Who's that?"

"Daddy. Daddy seeping."

"That's right. Daddy's sleeping." He embraced the toddler again and felt a tear slip from beneath his eyelid. Gus touched it in wonder.

"Daddy Jusin…" he said and he kissed him. "Luv you."

"I love you too." 

 

When Brian woke he found Justin and Gus still going strong, watching SpongeBob and giggling at the antics of the loveable yellow cartoon sponge.

Justin, copying SpongeBob, said, "I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready," and Gus tried to sing it too.

"I readee, I readee, I readee." He laughed and buried his face in Justin's side. "I readee." He looked around when he heard Brian's footsteps and ran to him. "Daddy!" Bounced up and down.

"What?"

"Pick me." So Brian picked him up. "Daddy."

"What?"

"I hungry."

"Didn't you and Justin eat yet?"

"No."

"Then we'd better eat. What can we eat? I think we can eat you," he said and he gummed Gus' arm while the toddler squealed and fought him off.

"No, Daddy, no eat me.

"But you taste so good. You taste like cookies."

"No. Not cookies."

"Like carrots."

"No."

"Hamburger?"

"Yeah! Hamburga!"

Justin got up. "How about a turkey burger? I don't want you eating too much red meat."

"Burga?" Gus asked.

"Good burga," Justin told him.

"Daddy Jusin burga," Gus informed Brian in case he hadn't heard.

"Justin is making a burger?"

"Daddy Jusin," Gus explained and Justin paused to see if Brian would get it.

"Daddy Justin?" Brian asked the baby.

"Yeah. Daddy Jusin."

As Justin had done, Brian pointed to himself. "Who's this?"

"Daddy."

He pointed to Justin. "Who's that?"

"Daddy Jusin."

Brian smiled and squeezed Gus. "That's right. That's Daddy Justin. And he's going to fix hamburgers. You want some cheese?"

"Cheese. Cheeburga." 

 

Neither of them had believed that Gus would hold out for as long as he did but it was around ten thirty before he finally succumbed to the sandman and allowed his daddies to put him to bed, Beh by his side. By that time, he'd worn the two of them out. Leaving him to sleep, they collapsed on the sofa and just took a breather.

"About that fucking you all night?"

"Yeah?"

"How about I just talk dirty to you and we call it quits?"

Justin crawled over on top of him and straddled his hips. Kissed him deeply, breaking contact only to grab a bite of air. The second time he released Brian, the man shut his eyes and licked his lips.

"Well, maybe I could manage a couple of hours."

He loved undressing for Brian. Feeling his man's eyes on him as he stripped. Although the goal was to remove each barrier to the feel of skin against skin, the act itself was very erotic as well. Sometimes Brian undressed him himself, taking great pleasure in divesting him of each item of clothing, kissing every inch of revealed skin until he had peeled him clean and he lay pale and golden before him. Other times Brian preferred to watch, to follow his movements with his eyes, imagining the moment when all of his baby would be uncovered and he could fill his hand, his arms with naked boy.

Having dropped off his briefs, Justin climbed back onto Brian's lap and kissed him again. Brian cupped his buttocks, the soft down covering the teen's luscious cheeks tickling the palms of his hands. "You're so beautiful," he whispered to his young partner. "You make me so happy."

Justin fumbled with the buttons on Brian's jeans. Opened all four of them and reached inside. "Mmm…"

Brian drew his head down and they kissed for a while, desiring, needing no other communication. Then Brian said softly, "I want to make love to you…"

"Yes…"

"All… night… long…" He tumbled Justin over onto his back and spread his thighs. Lowered his head and kissed his cock. Justin moaned and ran his fingers through Brian's hair as the man devoured him, ravenous for the taste of his meat, gorging himself on the swollen head and the stiff shaft. When he pulled away after many minutes of feasting, his lips and cheeks were shiny with spit and precum. Justin's balls were high and firm. He hissed as Brian turned his attention to them next, filling his mouth with the teen's sac, sucking deliciously on the plump delicacies until his lover began to pant and pushed at his head.

"I don't want to come yet," Justin whimpered. He shivered and took a deep breath as Brian released him.

The man stood and shucked his sweater. His nipples were raspberry nubs on his chest. He pushed his jeans down revealing a thatch of brown hair and his swollen cock. It hung heavy between his thighs, not yet erect but obviously affected by his labors. He straddled Justin's head, one knee on the arm of the chair, his cock swinging over the teen's face.

Raising his head, Justin took tiny licks at the organ above him, each time his tongue covering a little bit more territory, a new area, until the entire head was moist with his saliva. Bracing himself by holding onto Brian's leg and the back of the sofa, Justin enclosed the tip in his mouth and sucked softly. His tongue fluttered over the bulbous head and Brian moaned and eased a little more of his cock inside. Soon he was pumping his hips and gently fucking Justin's face. Justin let go of his cock and caught his balls between his lips. Gobbled them up and was loathe to let go except that he hungered for Brian's dick as well and was soon stuffing his face once more.

Brian withdrew and shuddered. His cock swayed before him, red and hard. A teardrop of precum formed at the tip and dropped onto Justin's face. The teen licked around his mouth and swiped his skin clean.

"More," he begged.

Brian had every intention of giving him more, giving him all of it. Grabbing hold of Justin's arm, he turned the teen onto his belly and knelt over him. Parted his cheeks and fed him his cock head.

"Yes," Justin sighed and arched his back. "Yes." Brian sank into him and nudged his prostate. He groaned into the pillow and pushed back with his hips. Brian slid home and paused.

Hands gripping the chair arm on either side of Justin's head, one foot on the sofa, the other braced against the floor, he fucked Justin long and lovingly, slowing his strokes down, withdrawing to the tip and filling him to the root. His hips swayed in an easy rhythm for a long while, sliding through the tight ring of muscle that relaxed more and more with each thrust. He took his cue from Justin, increasing the frequency and force of his lunges as the teen's cries grew in intensity and his body bucked beneath Brian's.

"Fuck me," he begged. "Fuck me. Please." And he moaned, his voice sending shivers up Brian's spine.

He kissed the back of Justin's neck. "I love you. I love your ass. I love it."

Justin squeezed his hole and milked Brian's dick as the man continued to pound him. "Oh. Oh. Brian. Brian…" He bit down on the pillow and jerked. His cock brushed against the cushion below him. He could feel sweat running down between his cheeks and over his balls. Brian slapped against him, his pubes wet and ticklish. "Brian. Yes, yes. Brian. Bri—" he moaned and he shut his eyes and exhaled as his cum spilled upon the seat of the couch.

Brian gave him two more hard thrusts and grunted. Fuck, it felt good to come, to feel his cock sliding through his own spunk and Justin's warm hole. He jerked against him and sighed and withdrew and rubbed his cock between Justin's cheeks. His cock had opened once more and cum dribbled down the crack of the teen's ass. He lowered his head onto Justin's shoulder. "Oh, Baby. Baby… Baby…"

After they'd recovered, they listened to see if Gus had awakened but the tot slept on. Cleaning up both themselves and the sofa, they lay upon it, curled together. Brian stroked Justin's cheek with his thumb.

"What time is it?" Justin asked.

Brian peered at the clock. "Eleven fifteen."

"Mm… Plenty of time left," and Brian chuckled softly and resolved to get as much rest as he could while he could. It was going to be a long night. 

 

Waking on the couch in a sitting position, he was aware of Justin lying against him on one side with his leg thrown across his lip, and Gus snuggled up to his torso on the other. He had managed to pull the throw over him and Justin before they had fallen asleep. Gus had dug in deep beneath his arm and was fast asleep too. He had no idea when the toddler had awakened and come looking for them but it had to have been early in the morning as they'd been awake making love sometime around four. He blinked a couple of times and squinted at the clock. Seven. He wondered if Gus had come looking for him to take him to the potty and he felt a twinge of guilt that the baby hadn't been able to wake them, they'd been exhausted when they finally settled down to sleep. Looking at the little boy his eyes met a pair of hazel ones to match his own. "Hey. You got to go pee-pee?" Gus shook his head. "You already go?" Gus nodded and Brian couldn't believe it. He'd probably wet the bed. "Show me," he said and he lifted Gus to the floor. Justin stirred but laid down on the couch as Brian left him, still sleeping.

The baby led his daddy to the bathroom and there at the foot of the commode was his step stool. He climbed up on it and back down and reached for the handle to mime flushing the toilet.

"I go, Daddy," he explained sleepily and Brian raised him up and kissed him.

"Such a big boy. Went potty all by yourself." Luckily they'd left a light on in the bathroom so the toddler had been able to find his way in the semi-dark apartment. And they'd left the toilet lid up. "I'm proud of you. You wanna go back to sleep?" Gus nodded, so Brian went and roused Justin and they tottered to the bedroom to sleep a while longer. 

 

In celebration of Gus' major achievement, Justin fixed waffles for breakfast with strawberry preserves and butter that filled every nook and cranny. Gus munched on his waffle joyously, his face smeared with preserves and his hands greasy with butter. He smiled and drank his milk and asked for more. In addition to the waffles, there was bacon which he crunched happily until the last morsel was devoured.

Brian smelled under his arms. "Shower."

"We must reek."

"Luckily he's used to diapers."

Gus shook his head. "No diapers. Big boy."

Giving him a kiss, Brian agreed. "You are a big boy. Come on, let's take a bath."

The baby played at their feet, rubbing himself with the tiny piece of soap that Brian had given him. It was specially formulated for young skin and Brian had paid a goodly sum for it. "Only the best for my boy." While Brian held him, Justin washed his hair and Gus squealed and squirmed like an otter.

Drying him thoroughly, Brian let him run into the bedroom naked and climb up on the bed. He grabbed Beh and began dancing with him, doing his Naked Dance as Justin called it.

The teen urged him on. "Do the Naked Dance, Gus. Go, Gus, go, Gus. You can do it. You can do it," and Gus put on a show. "Shake it, baby."

"Look, Daddy."

"I'm looking," Justin told him and Brian smiled from where he stood. _God, I love him_ , he thought. _Don't ever take him away,_ he prayed and Justin turned and flashed him a bright one and the world could have vanished for all he cared. He had his baby and everything was perfect. 

Finally dressing, they headed for the mall. Lindsay had said that she'd been promising to take Gus to see Santa Claus and hadn't gotten around to doing it so Brian had volunteered to do it. He didn't really believe Gus was quite ready for the Big Guy but he thought they'd give it a shot and see what happened. More than likely Gus would be petrified and would refuse to talk to St. Nick and would want his Daddy to take him away but he knew who Santa Claus was, he saw him on TV, so maybe he'd be prepared. They'd find out soon enough.

They'd finished their Christmas shopping and the online presents had arrived so they didn't have to stop in any of the stores. Both Justin and Brian had had quite a time keeping Gus from under the tree. Fortunately, he was easily distracted by the ornaments themselves; unfortunately, that meant they were constantly finding them around the loft where he'd taken them off the tree and left them lying on the lounge or the sofa or in the bed. Last night, in the throes of passion, Brian had felt something digging into his ass. Later he'd found out it was a Buttercup ornament, green eyes blazing.

Although they'd gotten to the mall not long after it had opened, there was still a line at Santa's workshop. Resigning himself to the wait and the fuss, Brian tried to focus on happier thoughts: him and Justin making love last night, him and Justin making love in Paris, him and Justin fucking in the Jeep…

"Stop it," Justin warned.

"What?"

"I know what you're thinking. Everyone here is gonna know what you're thinking."

"They're all thinking it anyway. I'm gorgeous, you're gorgeous, do the math."

"We're about to see Santa. He'll want to know if you've been naughty or nice."

"When I'm nice, I'm good but when I'm naughty, I'm even better."

"Thank you, Mae West."

Gus tugged on Brian's leg. "Daddy."

"What is it?"

"Who dat?"

"That's Santa Claus. Remember from the movie?"

Gus studied the huge man warily. It was one thing to see him on the big TV but another to see him in person. He was so big.

Brian whispered to Justin, "I think he's a little scared."

Justin crouched down. "Gus, remember when SpongeBob dressed up like Santa Claus? Remember that?"

Gus giggled. "Yeah." He liked SpongeBob. And SpongeBob was small.

"Doesn't Santa look funny too?"

Gus gave Kris Kringle the once-over again. "Yeah," he replied at last. "Santa funny." He laughed and hid his face.

"Great. Now he's gonna laugh at Santa Claus and he's gonna get a lump of coal in his stocking," said Brian.

"Don’t you listen to him, Gus. You've been a good boy this year."

"Daddy, who dat?"

Justin looked. "An elf. They help Santa make toys."

"The Big Q had better ones," Brian muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, dear," he sang in a falsetto voice while visions of well-hung elves danced in his head.

The woman in front of them turned and Brian and Justin tensed, ready for a scene, but she smiled and asked, "Is that your little boy?"

Shyly, Justin said, "Yes."

She smiled at Brian. "He looks just like you." She waved at Gus. "Hi."

"Hey," he said and looked around to see the little girl with her. She was five or six and he was captivated by her red hat. He wiggled his fingers at her. "Hey."

"Look at the baby, Mommy," the little girl said.

"Isn't he cute?" The little girl nodded and waved back at Gus.

When it was Gus' turn to sit on Santa's lap, he let the elf lift him without any fuss and promptly grabbed Santa's beard the way he grabbed Brian's hair. Both of them moved to stop him but it was too late. He yanked it down and let go, surprised by its movement. It snapped back into place and Gus squealed with delight and reached for it again but St. Nick headed him off and caught his hands.

"So, what's your name, little boy?"

Gus looked at Brian.

"Tell him your name."

"Gus."

"Hello, Gus. Do you know who I am?"

"San' Claws."

"That's right, Santa Claus. Have you been a good boy this year?"

"Yeah," he replied. Daddy Jusin had said so.

"What can Santa Claus bring you for Christmas?"

Again he looked to Brian.

"What do you want for Christmas? Do you want a toy?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of toy?" asked Santa.

"Truck," said Gus. "Red truck."

"You want a red truck," repeated St. Nick.

"Red truck."

"Well, since you've been such a good boy this year, Santa will see what he can do. Okay?" Gus nodded. Santa took a candy cane from his elf and handed it to Gus. "Here you go." The elf lifted him down. "Bye-bye, Gus. Ho ho ho."

Gus wiggled his fingers. "Bye-bye, San' Claws. Bye-bye." He went to his daddies and raised the cane. "See?"

"Look what Santa gave you," Justin said. "Can I have some?" Gus handed it to him but Justin only unwrapped it and handed it back. "There you go."

Gus offered it to Brian.

"No, thank you. It's all yours." So Gus put it in his mouth and sucked happily. Brian caught Justin's eye. "I am so not going there."

Justin grinned at him and tugged on his arm. "Come on." 

 

"You didn't take any pictures?" Lindsay asked when they'd taken Gus home.

"We figured he'd be scared enough. We'll get some next time," said Brian.

Mel bounced Gus on her knee. "But he did okay?"

"He had Santa eating out of his hand," answered Justin.

Brian stood. "We gotta go." They'd had dinner with the girls and Gus and it was getting late. He had a couple hours of work to do that evening in preparation for a partners' meeting the next day, the last meeting before the holidays. Gus reached for him and he took him in his arms and kissed him. "Bye, Sonny Boy."

"Bye-bye, Daddy."

Justin kissed him too. "Bye-bye, Gus."

"Bye-bye, Daddy."

Lindz and Mel stared. Lindsay asked, "Did he just…? Oh, my God…" She turned to Mel. "Did you hear that?"

Shaking her head, Mel said, "Two WASPs, a Jew, and an Irishman, and all queer. God, they're gonna love us on Family Day." 

 

When Justin dropped by on Monday to stow a wrapped present for Brian at their house, he asked Lindsay how she felt about Gus calling him daddy.

"I think it's wonderful that Gus has so many people who love him."

"He called my mom Nana Jenn."

Lindz laughed. "He's got Brian's charm all right." She eyed the package leaning against the wall. "Gonna tell me what it is?"

"A surprise. But I wanted you guys to see it too."

"Okay," she said, accepting the evasion. "And what about this commission from Kenneth Harris?" She sipped her tea. "Seems a little strange, don't you think?"

"Brian's beautiful. He's the best model I could have. Why not do a series of portraits?"

"But for Kenneth Harris? The man who'd replace you in a heartbeat if Brian gave him a chance?"

"But Brian's not going to give him a chance. Our anniversary is in a week. We've been together for over two years. And even though we've had problems—"

"I'll say."

"We're still together. That's how it's gonna be. Forever. So let Kenneth have his drawings. I've got everything I want."

Lindsay eyed him over the rim of her cup. "You're a very wise young man."

"Hard lessons," he admitted. "And a lot of mistakes. But I love him. That's all that matters." 

 

With the rest of the day free, he decided to go home and do some sketching there instead of the studio since the Institute had finally shut down for the holidays. The mail had come and he grabbed it on his way up. Flipped through it and stopped in the middle of a flight of stairs.

The envelope was addressed to him and came from SCI Pittsburgh. A Pennsylvania Correctional facility. A prison.

Chris Hobbs.

Chris Hobbs had written him from prison.

Justin leaned against the wall for a moment, shaking, then continued upstairs. He put the letter on the couner and left it there. Went and locked the door. It made him feel safer because suddenly he felt very afraid. It was an unreasonable fear, he knew that, but he was scared nonetheless. Chris Hobbs was in prison and there was no possibility of parole for a while. He was safe from him. So he'd believed. But there was a letter on the counter top that said otherwise.

Why would he have written him?

Studying the letter from across the room, Justin made up his mind in an instant. Tore open the envelope and opened the folded sheet of paper inside.

_Justin,_

_Even though I know I'm the last person you'd ever want to see, I think we should talk. There are some things I want to say to you that I can't write in a letter. You probably think this is some kind of a trick but it's not. I know it's hard to believe but I've changed, Justin, and I need to see you. It won't take long, just a few minutes, that's all I'm asking for. Please._

_Chris_

He placed the letter back in its envelope and stuffed it in his backpack. He didn't want Brian finding it by accident. He didn't want to think about the letter. But he had no choice.

"Fuckin' Hobbs," he muttered angrily. "Fuck you." He kicked his backpack. "Fuck you!" Sat on the sofa and cradled his head which had suddenly begun to ache around his right eye. Tension headache. He'd had them a lot after the attack. Even after he'd been given the green flag by his doctors, the headaches would come without warning, blinding him. Brian would massage his temples and place cold clothes on his forehead, talk to him in a low, comforting voice until the pain went away. He wished he was here now.

Glaring at the backpack and the letter hidden inside, he winced. "What do you want?"

It was crazy. If Chris hadn't attacked him, Brian might not have confessed his love for him and they might not have gotten together at all. They might have continued to exist in some kind of twilight zone where Brian was unable or unwilling to admit how much he loved Justin, needed him. The attack had changed all that, had forced him to make a choice. Fear had driven him to give Justin what he'd always wanted: a commitment from Brian and a public declaration of his love.

But with the love came heartache as well. That horrific trial and the hell they went through during it, the loss of their privacy, the revelation of some of Brian's darkest secrets. They'd argued over Justin's plea for leniency at Hobbs' sentencing and he'd thought that he'd lost Brian. He'd spoken because of Xavier, because of the growing feelings between them, because of the confusion he felt over those feelings. They'd kissed in Xavier's studio, setting off a chain of events that would leave Brian devastated, suicidal.

Justin trembled remembering that morning. It still frightened him and he didn't like to think about it. The wild look in Brian's eyes, the confusion and loss, the anguish. Maybe it was too much to lay all of that at the feet of Chris Hobbs but he did.

Gradually the pain in his head subsided and he got up and took a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Looked around the loft as he drank. He was lucky, he knew that. He could have died when Chris Hobbs attacked him. If Brian hadn't been there, he would have. He would have died and never lived to hear Brian tell him that he loved him. Never lived to hear Gus call him Daddy.

He tried not to hate. But sometimes he failed.

"I can't," he whispered. "I can't do it. Don't ask me to do it," he said to no one and no one replied.

Outside, the snow began to fall silently. 

 

Brian studied the top of Justin's head for a few moments before saying, "You're mighty quiet tonight."

The teen shrugged. "Figured I'd give you a break."

"I like it when you babble."

Justin looked up momentarily and made a face. Then returned to gazing at his plate.

"Okay, I know I'm not the world's greatest cook but even I can fix pasta and heat up a ready made sauce. And you made the sauce."

"It's not the food."

He reached over and lifted Justin's head by the chin. "Then what is it?"

"Nothing." Justin got up and carried his plate to the kitchen. Dumped his food in the garbage disposal and ran it.

"Nothing," said Brian, throwing down his napkin and joining him. His plate was clean so all he did was put it in the dishwasher. He watched as Justin went back for their empty wine glasses and waited until he'd finished loading everything before taking the teenager's arm and leading him over to the sofa. "Sit." Justin sat. "So?"

"Brian, really, it's nothing."

Folding his arms, Brian asked, "Did you really want to go see your grandmother this year?"

"No." Justin shook his head. "Really, I'd rather be here with you and Gus and our friends. My grandmother'll live. She'll outlive us all." Especially imbibing her foul concoctions for every disorder known under the sun. The woman was probably invincible. "I'll see her next year sometime."

"Then what's causing the clouds, Sunshine?" teased Brian.

He couldn’t tell Brian about Chris but he could tell him part of the truth. "I miss Daphne."

"She'll be back after Christmas, won't she?"

"Yeah. I just wish I could see her now, that's all. It's been so long."

As if he was finally convinced that this was the reason Justin had been sorta blue, Brian plopped down next to his partner and hugged him. "I kinda miss her bopping up and down too." He laid his head against Justin's conspiratorially and whispered, "Don't tell anybody I said that though. Wouldn't want the other Female Fans to get jealous."

"Too late," Justin told him. "I think the others know she's your favorite." 

 

Despite the sound of Christmas music piped in over the company's PA system and the cheer and bonhomie brought on by several cups of spiked Egg Nog, Brian felt vaguely uneasy all day and didn't know why. It was Christmas Eve and when he left this evening it'd be for a two-week vacation, sitting at home with Justin, maybe going out house hunting, playing with Gus. Plus, they were going to the inn to celebrate their anniversary. Ordinarily he'd be looking forward to it, would have been unable to keep from smiling all day, but not today. Worse, he was haunted by the feeling that he was forgetting something he should remember. But he couldn't figure out what it was. He'd distributed his gifts to the partners and Cynthia, he'd signed the Christmas bonuses for the people on his team; he and Justin had finished their shopping last week, and Mikey was bringing Justin's present over in the morning before they left home to go to Mel and Lindsay's. He'd carried his mom's gifts and stuff for Claire and her brood to Joanie's place yesterday. So what was he forgetting?

Cynthia saw him frowning to himself at his desk. "Something wrong?"

Shook his head. "Damn if I know."

"Maybe you're worried because everything is going perfectly," she suggested.

"Yeah," he replied distractedly.

"Well," she said, coming closer and leaning over him, "I'm going." She kissed him on the cheek and added, "Merry Christmas, Boss."

"See you next year."

"And Happy Anniversary."

"Thanks. Good trip." He watched her leave and hoped she'd like his gift. He'd splurged and bought her a silver bracelet set with lapis lazuli. Well, there was nothing left except to pack his briefcase and go home. Justin was meeting him there and they were going out to dinner. Unrolling his sleeve, he glanced at the sterling silver bracelet he'd gotten for Christmas last year. Or, rather, it had been a commitment gift from Justin to replace the cowry shell bracelet Cam had given him. They'd been starting out anew and putting—

He stopped and closed his eyes. Cam. Cam had died in a car accident on Christmas Eve last year. That's what he'd been trying to remember. "Oh, God," he whispered and covered his face. Unbidden, images of him and Cam assaulted him: He and Cam dancing together at the club, he and Cam walking down a street in Soho, he and Cam in bed exchanging cowry shell bracelets. Brian wrapped his arms around his middle, eyes on his desktop. As he watched, a tear fell onto the smooth surface. He wiped his face and sniffled. Unrolled his sleeves and buttoned his cuffs. Put on his jacket and packed his briefcase. Cam was dead. That was the sum of it. And he'd gone on, had put Cam and that part of his life behind him.

Only, in the elevator, his resolve weakened and he slumped against the wall, suddenly exhausted. Someone got on and he straightened up and turned to the side, avoiding their eyes. There was enough gossip floating around about him without crying in elevators in front of witnesses. 

 

Justin was toweling off when he got home. "Hey," he said, drying his hair. "Where are we going?"

Shedding his shoes and suit, Brian pecked him on the lips. "Cynthia got reservations at The Cove."

"Sweet." The Cove was a well-kept secret among the foodies of Pittsburgh. Tucked away in an unassuming building along side rare bookshops and vintage clothing stores, it was a flight walk up to the small restaurant that only seated thirty people. Rarely was it full to capacity because it wasn't well-known among the populace, but rarely was it less than half full because its patrons were loyal.

Brian plodded to the bathroom satisfied that he'd passed the first test. He'd been able to keep any thoughts of Cam from showing on his face or coloring his demeanor. Justin would have picked up on any hint of trouble if his control had been less than perfect. But he'd clamped down on those feelings and he'd put them away until another time, until he had the leisure to dissect them. It was funny how most people had assumed that he'd behaved the way he had because he'd been thoughtless or unaffected by anything when, in reality, the reason he'd behaved so badly was because he'd thought too much, had felt too much, and hadn't been able to deal with things and so he'd put up barriers to protect himself. Justin and Gus had crashed those barriers and thrown the doors wide open, exposing him. And, at the same time, protecting him better than he ever could have guarded himself.

He sighed— _No more Cam, not tonight_ —and stepped into the shower. 

 

Returning home around ten, they made love and lay down to dream of Christmas morning but Brian woke up around two and couldn't get back to sleep.

_Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse._

He left the bed and sat on the chaise lounge looking longingly at the space on the countertop where his liquor used to sit. When Justin had returned home, he'd asked Brian about the missing bottles and had gotten the entire story in detail. Justin had hugged him and told him how proud he was of him for turning away from booze as the answer to his problems. Of course, on nights like this, when he couldn’t sleep, he really wished he'd kept some of them. They'd bought a bottle of rum but he'd never been a huge rum drinker. He preferred his bourbon and had refused to buy any. So he'd do without.

There was a doobie in his wooden box where he kept his stash but Justin would smell that if he lit it up and they were both trying to cut back. So his choices were limited: sit up or go back to bed. If he went back to bed he'd only toss and turn but if he remained out here much longer there was the chance that Justin would wake, missing him, and then he'd have to explain why he was up. And he didn't want to get into it, not tonight. He supposed he could always pop a sleeping pill but he needed to be alert Christmas morning and the pills would definitely hinder his performance. So he was back to his two choices.

He heard Justin stir. _Fuck._ Quickly he tiptoed into the bathroom and flushed the toilet. Came back to the bedroom and got into bed. Justin mumbled something and reached for him. Began to snore softly.

Lying there awake, he replayed a scene in his mind: him in bed, a man's arm across his waist, a dark head on his shoulder. And through the doorway of the bedroom, a tree decked out in multi-colored lights and ornaments, their Rainbow Christmas tree to celebrate their first Christmas on their own in the world. They'd gone out together and gotten it, bought all the ornaments and hung them together, taking sips of Jim Beam to refresh themselves. By the time they'd finished, they'd been more than a little tipsy. A few presents lay beneath its branches, gifts to one another that they'd open when they managed to drag themselves from bed. Last night they'd gone to a Christmas party and danced way past midnight. Stumbled home and whispered Merry Christmas to one another as they'd fumbled with zippers and buttons. And he'd clenched Cam to him and confessed his love and fallen asleep in his arms.

A tear slid down his face and he wiped it away, careful not to stir too much, afraid of waking sleeping memories. 

 

_He was dancing in the parking garage the night of the prom. Not with Brian, but with Xavier. They kissed and he walked away from him, smiling, off to find Daphne and to see her home; and then he heard Xavier's voice calling to him. "Justin!" He turned and everything went black._

Justin opened his eyes and sat up in bed. Sweat beaded on his brow. He looked down at Brian, still sleeping. Checked the clock. A little after three. Lying back down, he stared at the ceiling. He could feel the warmth of Brian's body next to his. Could hear him breathing.

He had dreamt about the attack.

And Xavier.

Slipping from bed, he got the letter Chris Hobbs had sent him from prison.

_Even though I know I'm the last person you'd ever want to see, I think we should talk._

About what? What could Chris Hobbs possibly say to him? I'm sorry I bashed you in the head? I'm sorry I tried to kill you? I'm sorry I didn't kill you?

He glanced into the bedroom to make sure Brian was still asleep. Didn't want him to wake and catch him reading the letter. The letter he hadn't told him about. Why? _Why didn't you tell him about it?_ He knew the answer to that one. Because Brian would have hopped in the Jeep and driven to the prison and beaten the crap out of Hobbs.

_So what are you going to do?_

Putting the letter back into his backpack, he returned to bed. But not to sleep. It was harder to put Xavier aside.

He knew that Xavier still loved him, despite having Trey, despite everything that they'd been through. And he loved him. But the intensity had waned and as he looked back on their brief affair he realized that the love he'd felt for Xavier had always been something other than what he felt for Brian. Even in the midst of it, even when he'd been with Xavier, he'd known that it wouldn't last, that they were making a mistake. Now he knew that what he had felt for Xavier was the deep and abiding love of one friend for another. It was the sex that had screwed things up.

So why was he dreaming about him? 

 

 

Blue eyes looked down into his hazel ones and he let a smile touch the corners of his mouth. "Morning."

"Merry Christmas," Justin corrected him with a kiss.

"Merry Christmas," he said when he could speak again.

Justin eased a leg across him and pressed against him, letting Brian feel his arousal.

"That my present?" asked Brian and Justin wrinkled his nose.

"No. It's at Mel and Lindsay's."

"Yours too. I didn't want you going under the tree and shaking it, trying to find out what it was." Justin ground his pelvis into Brian's hip. "So if this isn't my present, what is it?"

"Stocking stuffer."

Laughing wickedly, Brian was just about to suggest something else Justin could stuff with it when the phone rang.

"Shit," cursed the teen. "Let it ring."

"It's Lindsay." He picked it up. "Yeah?"

"Your son is asking for you and his other daddy."

"Daddy!" yelled Gus in the background.

"Okay," he groaned. "We'll be there in half an hour. Tell him to keep his trainers on." He hung up and kissed Justin. "We gotta go."

Justin rolled over onto his back and peeked at his hard-on. "What a waste."

Throwing back the covers, Brian gave his baby's cock a quick swipe of his tongue. "Save it for tonight." 

 

Brian slipped on his sunglasses at the foot of the stairs and threw Justin the keys to the car. "You drive."

"I've got my keys."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah, I do," he argued.

Brian pushed through the door. "No, you don't."

Catching hold of the door, Justin said, "Yeah, I—" He stopped in his tracks. Looked at the keys in his hand. At the 2000 Jeep Cherokee parked by the entrance to the building. Dark blue with a grey interior. A huge red bow was draped over the steering wheel. He turned to Brian. "Is this…?"

"Merry Christmas. And Happy Anniversary."

Justin turned to look at the Jeep once more then leapt into Brian's arms. "Thank you. I can't believe it!"

Kissing him soundly, Brian pushed him away. "Go on, open it." Justin started for the passenger's side. "Other side. Kids."

Grinning like an idiot, Justin skipped around to the driver's side, pausing to look at the license plate. JSTNTME. "Just in time," he said. His email handle. He laughed and opened the driver's door. Got inside and placed his hands on the steering wheel for the first time. This was his car. His. He checked out the stereo. CD player and an AM/FM radio. Sweet. There was a tap on the window of the passenger's side.

"Hello? It's cold out here."

Justin unlocked the door for Brian. "Sorry."

"How about some heat?"

The teen removed the bow and tossed it in the back. Started the car. The engine purred to life. Smiling, he switched on the heat. "It's perfect. Thank you," he said again and Brian kissed him once more.

"You're welcome."

"Wait until I tell Daphne. Wait until Xavier and Rennie see it."

"So, listen," Brian told him, "you're responsible for gas and paying the insurance on this behemoth. Deal?"

"Deal." He beamed and bounced in his seat. "Wait until my mom sees it. And Deb and the guys."

"The guys have already seen it. Mikey and them brought it over this morning."

"Oh." He leaned back in the seat and imagined tooling around town in the Jeep.

"Happy?" Brian asked unnecessarily.

Justin nodded, too full to speak.

"Then let's get this show on the road. I've got a present waiting for me, not to mention I'm hungry as shit and could really use a cup of coffee." They were having breakfast with the Munchers and they'd spend the afternoon at Deb's.

As he pulled away from the curb, Justin worried that his gift wouldn't be enough. How could you compete with a car? Brian had bought him a fucking car! _I should have saved my money and gotten him something really special_ , he told himself. Unconsciously, he frowned.

"What?" Brian asked, seeing the expression on his face.

"Nothing." He smiled. "I love it. And I love you."

Brian smirked. "You better." 

 

Mel was standing in the doorway with Gus, waiting for Brian and Justin, when they drove up. "Well, fuck me."

"What?" asked Lindsay, coming over, not bothering to remind Melanie about her language in front of Gus.

"Look at that."

Lindsay gasped. "Oh fuck. Brian bought Justin a car?"

"Jeep Cherokee. Son of a bitch. I better have a damn good present under that tree."

The two men got out of the car, Justin's smile bright enough to melt snow.

Pushing open the door, Mel said, "Look at you."

"Isn't it beautiful?" Justin asked. He bent and picked up Gus. "Hey."

"Hey, Daddy." He kissed Justin then patted his shoulder to get Justin to give him to Brian. The transfer made, he kissed Brian too. "Hey, Daddy."

"Hey, Sonny Boy."

"Where Jeep?"

"At home. See Justin's car?"

"Daddy car?"

"Yeah. Daddy's car is a Jeep too."

"No," said Gus. It was different.

Brian didn't argue with him. There was no point in trying to explain. He'd understand when he was older.

"All right," said Lindsay, rubbing her hands together. "Let's open some presents."

Following them into the livingroom, Brian smelled coffee. He put Gus down and disappeared into the kitchen. Returned a moment later with a steaming cup and sighed as he took his first sip. "Oh, yeah. Now we can open presents."

As usual Gus' haul was pretty impressive. He got books, clothes, games, a new ride-on toy, some bath-time stuff for the tub, and a xylophone which he played happily for a few minutes before heading back beneath the tree. There were stuffed animals and the vintage teddy bear Brian and Justin had gotten him in London and, finally, a present with a tag that said it was from Santa Claus.

"Let's see what Santa Claus brought you," Lindsay told him and he opened the present to find a shiny new red truck inside.

His eyes and mouth opened wide and for a moment he could only stare at it. Then he shouted, "Truck!" and showed it to Brian.

"I see. Santa got you a red truck."

Gus rolled the truck on the floor, his other toys forgotten for the moment, while the adults began to clear away some of the paper and mess. Mel examined again the beautiful purple glass stemware Brian and Justin had gotten her and Lindsay in Venice and said for the second time, "These are exquisite. Thanks, guys."

"Hey!" exclaimed Lindsay. "There's one more present back there. For Brian." She got it from where it leaned against the wall. "I think it's from Justin." Brian took it and held it. "Well? Open it."

He tore off the plain brown wrapping to find deep burnt orange paper beneath, tied with a magenta ribbon. Justin had learned about presentation. Smiling, Brian removed that paper as well.

Mel gasped. "Wow…"

It was the sketch of Brian and Gus sleeping, behind glass and framed. Justin had finished it and shaded it with colored pencils, putting roses in their cheeks and auburn highlights in their chestnut hair.

"It's amazing," said Lindsay. "I think this is your best work yet."

Justin waited for Brian to speak and when he didn't, asked timidly, "Do you like it?"

Catching Justin's eyes, Brian answered softly, "I love it, Baby. You did this?" Justin nodded, bashful now that everyone's attention was focused on him and his work. "Baby, this is the best."

"It's not a car but…"

"The car only cost money. But this… you did this. You made it. There's a thousand Jeeps like that one but there's only one of these." He kissed the teen tenderly. "Thank you."

"Merry Christmas."

Gus came and looked at it. "Dat you, Daddy," he said, pointing to Brian in the picture. "Dat me."

"That is you."

"Seeping."

"So where are you going to hang it?" asked Mel.

"In my office," he said, envisioning the spot, so that everyone would see how talented his partner was. "It's perfect." 

 

It was noon before they left the Munchers and drove over to Deb's house. Ted's car and Jeff's car were in the driveway. Justin parked the Cherokee on the street and they rushed down the sidewalk.

Vic met them at the door and hugged them both. "I heard someone got a new car."

"Isn't it sweet?" Justin asked.

"It's a beauty."

Brian peeped in the house and said, "Come see what Justin gave me for Christmas." The guys and Deb stood shivering around the car while Brian got out the picture.

"Oh, Sunshine," exclaimed Deb. "It's beautiful."

Jeff clapped Brian on the shoulder. "That's going to be worth a lot someday."

"It already is," he said and Justin breathed easier. Brian really liked it. He'd done well.

"Way to go, Baby," said Emmett and Ted beamed.

"Ah… taxable assets. I love it."

Mikey hung back and walked with Brian to the house. "That really is something else."

"I'm really lucky, you know?" Brian said. "When I think about how my life used to be, how it might have been… It scares me, Mikey."

"You deserve to be happy." He and Brian kissed. "Come on. Uncle Vic decanted that bottle of red wine you bought him in Italy. Smells great."

"Taste even better." 

 

Jeff paused in the middle of his story and chuckled. The others were waiting to hear the rest. It was obvious why he'd become a reporter. He had a gift for words and storytelling. "So I get there, and this guy comes down the stairs like Norma Desmond and he says, 'I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.' " They laughed. "And he's bare-assed to the world. Nutty as a fruitcake. The station manager wouldn't even let me air the footage we shot. Too afraid of getting sued by the family."

"You did the interview?" asked Michael.

"Hell, yeah. No way was I gonna pass up that opportunity. They're one of the most prominent families in Pittsburgh, old old moldy money, and a looney toons was heading their corporation. Besides, he was hung like a fuckin' stallion."

"You know," said Emmett, with his eyes wide open a la Norma, "I love Glenn Close and I worship Patti LaPone but no one does Norma Desmond like Gloria Swanson."

"Remember in Soapdish when they put Sally Field in a turban and she said, 'what I feel like is Gloria fucking Swanson?' " asked Ted. "And then they put Elizabeth Shue in a yellow one and she said, 'I look like goddamn Tweety Bird!' "

They all laughed except Justin who nudged Brian and asked, "Who's Norma Desmond?"

Vic pointed to the door. "Get out. Turn in your fag card and get out of our house," he deadpanned.

Justin looked confused, then blushed as he realized Vic was kidding. The guys teased him all throughout dinner.

"Brian, obviously you've been neglecting his queer education," declared Emmett.

"Well, I'll just have to send him around to you for Gay 101."

"I consider it an obligation." He leaned over and said to Justin, "Please tell me you know who Ann Miller is."

Justin raised an eyebrow and grimaced. "Sorry."

"Judy Garland?" asked Michael.

"I've seen The Wizard of Oz sixteen times," Justin informed him, slightly annoyed.

"Jayne Mansfield," suggested Vic.

"No."

"Maria Callas," said Ted.

He shook his head.

Deb added, "Dorothy Lamour."

Justin just looked at her blankly. "I know who Madonna is and Brittany Spears. And Cher," he said, hopeful that would be enough. She was old.

Em almost swooned. "There's no time to lose. Quick, someone put in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and we'll start from there."

"Ah, youth," sighed Brian but he kissed Justin and smiled. The teen knew more than enough about how to keep him happy and that was plenty. 

 

With the keys to the Cherokee on the bedside table and the portrait of Brian and Gus safely propped against the wall by the chaise lounge, the two lovers struggled on the bed. Justin lay on his back with Brian impaled above him, his knees spread on either side of Justin's hips, supporting himself on his hands, leaning back over Justin's shins, raising and lowering his ass onto the teen's cock. Head thrown back, he moaned and grunted as he fucked himself on the turgid shaft. His own cock bounced before him, precum flung across his thigh and Justin's belly. Sitting upright, he rose and fell, rose and fell… Justin's dick felt like a derrick, drilling for oil inside his hole. He sank down and encircled his cock with his hand. Stroked himself until his cock hole opened and cum surged forth to drop from the head.

"Ahh…" he gasped and squeezed just at the base. Another stream of cum flowed from the tip to splatter Justin's abdomen. He released his cock and leaned forward, driving his hips backwards, sliding up and down Justin's erection. "Oh! Oh. Oh…" He tightened his hole and wiggled his hips, lights going off behind his eyelids.

"Brian!" shouted Justin and he grabbed hold of Brian's hipbones and held him still, stabbing upwards. His cock head caught on the lip of Brian's hole and he cried out.

Brian reached back and took hold of his shaft and held him in place as he eased back onto Justin's dick. "Ah…" His hole clenched Justin. He sat upright again and lowered himself all the way down, savoring the fullness in his ass. He ran his hands across his chest, down his abdomen. He tugged on his cock again and groaned. Released his meat and rose up off of Justin. He lay on his belly and spread his thighs. Justin crawled between them and mounted him, his slick cock sliding into place. "Yes!" hissed Brian and he raised his hips. "Fuck me. Fuck my ass."

Justin rocked above him, plowing him open. "I'm gonna fuck you…" he promised.

"Yes…"

" 'til you scream."

Brian clenched his teeth and Justin jabbed his ass.

"Scream."

He buried his face in the pillow and moaned around a mouthful of cotton.

Justin pounded him, barely sliding out before ramming his cock home again. "Do it. You know you want to. Scream my name."

"Uhn!" grunted Brian and he thrashed below the teen.

"Say it." He thrust hard into Brian and began pumping him furiously. "Say it!"

"Justin."

"Louder."

"Justin!"

"Again."

"Justin!"

"That's it. That's it," he grunted as he fucked Brian. His cock swelled again and he sighed, coming inside his lover. Pulling out almost to the tip, he continued to spurt. He sank his dick back inside Brian all the way and lay full length upon him. He held the man and whispered, "I love you."

Brian's asshole throbbed. Justin had fucked him like he'd never done before. Even though he had come earlier, Brian's cock was hard again. He uttered a cry as Justin withdrew. Not sure what the teen would do next to him, he waited. Felt Justin shift on the bed. Felt fingers slide down between his cheeks, brush over his hole. He hissed and jerked as the pad of Justin's finger pressed against the swollen edges. And then he felt the warmth of Justin's breath on his skin. The tip of Justin's tongue touched him and he moaned. It played around the perimeter and then slipped inside his hole.

Justin lapped cum from Brian's ass and chewed on the stretched out ring of muscle while his lover's body twitched with pleasure. He raised up and turned Brian over and began to blow him, sucking his erection, tightening his lips around the engorged head, trailing his tongue along the shaft. Lapping at his hairless balls. Justin played in the slit of his cock, flicking his tongue over the tip, probing his piss hole. "Oh! No! No, I— I!" Justin sucked hard, his lips forming a seal around Brian's hard-on, his fingers jacking him firmly, sliding up and down the length of him, stroking him until the man cried out and shuddered. His head lolled on the pillow and his entire body stiffened.

Cum flooded Justin's mouth. He continued to suck until the flow stopped and then he lapped Brian's cock clean of spunk. "So good," he purred, kissing the cum-streaked head. "Tastes so good…" 

 

By the time he dragged himself from bed, Justin had already showered, dressed, and fixed breakfast. Brian did a perfunctory wash-up and brushed his teeth and sat down to eat with him. "You're up early."

"Places to go."

"Give a man a set of wheels and you'll never see him again."

Justin laughed and buttered his toast. "You'll see me again. I just have to run a few errands."

"Hitting the sales?"

"No. Just errands."

Throwing up his hands, Brian surrendered. "Fine. I plan on lazing around all day. Surf the porn sites, maybe watch a little TV…"

"Expand your horizons…" teased Justin.

"I think I got my horizons expanded plenty last night," replied Brian and Justin blushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

"It's a good thing the super's gone away for the holidays or there would have been another note in the newspaper."

"Count on it."

When Justin was ready to go, Brian asked him again, "Still won't tell me what you're up to?"

"Nothing." Justin kissed him on the forehead and grabbed his keys. "Honestly."

"Okay. Later."

"Later."

With Justin gone, Brian finished off the pot of coffee and read the paper from front to back in peace and quiet. Usually he had to trade parts with Justin and negotiate for the sections they both liked to read. After he finished the paper, he cleared away the breakfast stuff and took a long, hot shower. Went through his skin treatment and deep conditioned his hair. Gave himself a pedicure and trimmed and buffed his fingernails. Pulled out a few things that needed to be dry cleaned from the closet.

Deciding to skip shaving for the day, he dressed in a comfortable pair of old jeans and a plain white tee-shirt that he knocked around in whenever he had nothing to do and nowhere to go.

He checked his email and goofed off online for a half hour before shutting the computer down and plopping on the couch to listen to some music. The Crystal Method came on and he closed his eyes. Maybe he'd take a little nap…

The sound of the door sliding close woke him. He sat up just as Justin came towards him carrying a bouquet of flowers. "Who are those for?"

Justin hesitated, then answered, "They're for Cam."

So Justin had remembered too. "Why?"

"I thought maybe you'd want to go visit him."

Brian rubbed his eyes and waited for Justin to join him on the sofa. "How? How can you be so generous?"

"Because I have you." He touched Brian's face, seeing the pain in his eyes. "It's okay to love him. I understand. I know that he'll always be special to you."

"The way Xavier is to you?" asked Brian, afraid of what Justin might say.

"No." No matter how many dreams he had, he knew the truth. "Xavier and I… we never should have been anything but friends. That's what we started out being and it's what we were meant to be. And we're still friends. I haven't lost him. But you and Cam, you were meant to be lovers. Maybe not forever, but it was meant to be. I don’t begrudge you that. And I know that it hurts that he's gone."

Brian half-turned away. "Justin…"

The teen made Brian look at him. He held his trembling lover and kissed him softly. "It'll be good for you. Instead of brooding about it, go talk to him."

Brian looked at the flowers Justin had bought. Pale yellow roses nestled in baby's breath. 

 

He knelt and placed the flowers on Cam's grave. Remained squatted for a moment, his hand on the tombstone. He hadn't been here since he'd come to cry after finding out that Justin had slept with Xavier. Even when he and Justin had made their offerings to the past, they'd done it at his dad's grave, not Cam's because he hadn't felt that he'd have the strength to face him. Even dead Cam still exerted a hold on him. Was it just that Cam had been his first love? Was that all that it was? He didn't believe that it was but he didn't know why either, why Cam continued to affect him so.

He stood and jammed his hands down into his coat pockets. "It's still hard to believe you're gone," he said, squinting against the sun. He'd forgotten his sunglasses. "It's so strange, not being able to see you. Even when we were apart, even though it'd been years, I never stopped thinking that maybe someday you'd show up and we'd talk, that maybe some day we'd be able to laugh about the past. We had some good times." He looked around at the monuments around him.

"I destroyed the video of our trip to New York. It hurt too much to watch it. Besides… I remembered everything." He sniffled. "Justin says that we were meant to be lovers, you and me. Maybe he's right. Maybe no matter what we had done, we would have ended up together. But we weren't ready for love, for a commitment. You were right about that. But I think that if I hadn't been with you, I would never have been able to love Justin and I do belong with him. I feel it in my bones, Cam. I would do anything for him, I would give my life for him, in an instant, because a world without him… there'd be nothing left. No beauty, no joy, no nothing. I think you made that possible. I think loving you helped me to be ready to love him." He blinked and tears rolled down his face. "I know it doesn't make any sense but I just feel it. I wish we could have been friends. I wish we could have gotten together on our twentieth college reunion and laughed about all the times Frank tried to score with Kirsten." He paused. "I miss you." He chuckled and scuffed the snow with the toe of his boot. "I hope there are plenty of hot guys where you are." He laughed. "I don't mean hot like in hell… I mean… You know what I mean." Softly he said, "I love you. Later."

Justin saw him trudging back to the car and could have jumped for joy. Brian was smiling and the shadows were gone from his eyes. They embraced and Brian kissed him. "Thank you."

Stealing another kiss, Justin said, "I gotta take care of my Pookie, don't I?"

And Brian kissed him a third time. "You do. You take real good care of him." 

 

Justin followed Joanie and carried the box of supplies from the party store out to his car.

"Thanks for helping me," she told him as they buckled up.

"No problem. Gives me a chance to show off the Jeep."

She smiled; he really loved his new car. "It's quite nice."

He backed up and pulled out of the parking lot. "Actually, maybe you can help me."

"How?"

"I don’t know what to get Brian for our anniversary."

"Oh. Well…" she paused. "Brian does have a lot of nice things."

"Exactly. He has everything. I thought maybe there was something that he'd always wanted, maybe when he was a kid."

Joanie's expression changed and a pained look came on her face. "I think, more than anything, he wanted his father's love. And mine," she admitted.

"I didn't…"

"It's not your fault. It was ours." She glanced out of the window, then back down at her hands where were knotted in the handles of her purse.

"Things are different now. You're closer. He knows that you love him," Justin told her.

Joanie's face brightened a little. "I’m glad," she said. "Because I do." 

 

"So," he was telling Daphne, "I have to find Brian something really special for our anniversary." They were in the Cherokee headed for the mall.

"What'd he get you?"

"Daph?" Justin indicated the Jeep. "This. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, what does he like?"

"Lots of stuff." He sighed. "But he has everything. If he wants something, he just goes out and gets it."

"There must be something he wants that he doesn’t have. Think."

Justin thought and thought and thought. He frowned and scratched his ear. "I can't think of anything."

"Ask Michael and the guys."

"I did. They couldn't think of anything either. And I asked his mom. Zippo." He groaned. "Daph, I gotta find him something and our anniversary is four days away."

"You're going to the inn for a few days, maybe that's enough. Look, Brian loves you, not some stupid present. I bet he doesn’t even expect anything. And you gave him that great drawing for Christmas. Maybe that's enough."

But Justin didn't feel that it was. Only he didn't know what would be enough for Brian. 

 

By Monday he was in a panic. They were driving up to the inn tomorrow and he still hadn't found anything to give to Brian for their anniversary. If he didn't find something today he'd have to give up. He was rapidly running out of time. 

 

Throwing down their bags, Brian called Lindsay to let her know they'd arrived safely and for her to set the phone tree in motion. She'd call Joanie and Joanie would call Jenn and Jenn would call Deb and so on and so on and so on. Brian cut the ringer off both the cabin's phone and his cell phone. Justin had left his at home. For the next three nights they wanted no interruptions.

They dressed for dinner in their tuxes and waited for one of the inn's staff to bring their meals. Soft music played on the CD player. Justin had brought the CD, a compilation that he'd made himself of some of his favorite music.

 _"Nothing so bright, nothing so smooth,/ nothing so pure/ As my baby…"_ crooned Rufus Wainwright and Brian had to agree. Seated across from him, Justin looked beautiful, his blond hair bright as gold, blue eyes like the sky.

_All of my life days into night, all I did dream/ Was my baby…"_

Justin smiled beneath Brian's scrutiny and reached for his hand.

"Your heart's racing," said Brian, with his finger on Justin's pulse. "Nervous?" Justin shook his head but he didn't speak, didn't want Brian to hear the quiver in his voice. "Wanna dance?"

They moved around the floor while Rufus sang of his baby and as the music died down they found themselves lost in a kiss so deep that the world seemed dim and far away. Brian grabbed the ice bucket with the champagne chilling in it and set it upon the bedside table. Held out his hand and Justin came to him. "I love you."

Justin trembled as Brian undressed him. It was as if they were about to make love for the first time. Burying his face in Brian's shirt, he took a deep breath and inhaled the man's scent and was dizzy. He embraced Brian and felt his partner's arms close around him, hold him tenderly, desire forgotten, only concerned for his baby.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice muffled by silk.

Brian cupped his face and lifted it for a kiss. "Look at you," he whispered. "You're so beautiful."

Justin kissed the hands that held his face and closed his eyes. Heard Brian say again, "I love you." Felt him slide his shirt from his shoulders and felt his lips touch his skin, kissing his throat, his breastbone. His fingers brushed through locks of Brian's hair. Brian unbuttoned his trousers and unzipped them, eased them over his hips, slipped his hands down inside his briefs and palmed his buttocks. Justin moved against him and sighed. "Tell me," Brian said and Justin replied, "Love me."

Brian knelt and removed the last of his clothes, held onto his thigh as he stepped out of his pants and briefs. Looking up at him, Brian smiled. Stood and took him into his arms once more. "Mmm… you feel so good."

As did he. Justin could feel Brian's muscles flex even through the clothes he wore as the man ran his hands over the youth's ripe buttocks, his rounded shoulders. He felt indecent, naked against Brian's fully clothed body; nude except for his commitment band, his nipple ring, and his waist chain, the tiny sun charm glinting among his pubes. Parting his lips slightly, he was kissed again and tasted Brian's tongue. Pulling away, he lay down upon the bed and waited for Brian to join him.

First removing his shoes and socks, his jacket, Brian did so, stretching against him and nuzzling his neck as Justin unbuttoned his shirt and tweaked a nipple. He licked Justin's throat and kissed him beneath his jaw. Justin slipped his shirt from his shoulders and he parted from the teen long enough to remove his arms from the sleeves. Over the edge of the bed went the silk shirt. Justin's fingers trailed over his muscles, tracing veins in his forearms, and he drew the young man to him and felt Justin's nipples brush over his pecs. It was at times like this that he realized how much smaller Justin was than him. So fine, so perfect in every detail. So fragile-looking yet so strong. He moved slowly against the youth and sighed as Justin cupped him through his trousers. Felt Justin's cock press against him.

Justin moaned as he rubbed against the slick material of Brian's pants. He rotated his hips and was rewarded with a deep throb that traveled the length of his dick. _More_ , said the pulse in his neck, in his wrist, in his groin. _More_. He fumbled at Brian's zipper and released his cock from the confines of his briefs. Stroked the head with his thumb. Brian lay on his back, pants and underwear pushed down around his hips, allowing Justin find his pleasure as he would. The teen let go of him and removed his pants and briefs, kissing the insides of his thighs, his knees, his calves, his toes. He reclined next to Brian and ran his hand over his flank. "I love you."

"Say it again."

"I love you." He moved closer and enclosed Brian in his arms and legs. Rolled him onto his back and lay upon him, kissing him until their lips began to swell and they were both aroused. Justin knelt over Brian, with his knees on either side of his chest. His cock rose proudly towards his stomach. A bead of precum decorated the tip. Brian reached around his back and removed the golden chain from about his waist, wrapped it around his shaft, the two ends hanging down over his balls. Gently, Brian tugged on the ends and Justin groaned. His cock dipped then rose again as Brian reduced the force with which he pulled. Again he tugged on the chain and again Justin's cock responded. This time by dripping precum. It hung, suspended in midair above Brian's face, then stretched impossibly thin and landed on his lips. Coaxing more from the swaying cock, Brian continued to tug on the chain until his face was splattered with sticky sweet juice.

Justin removed the chain and rubbed his dick over Brian's face, the end sliding between his lips. "Suck me," he panted and Brian sucked him, tongue swirling over the bulbous head until Justin thought he would pass out from the sensation. He felt a hand slide up over his right breast and waited for the fingers to take hold of the ring and pull. "Uh!" he moaned, feeling the tug in his cock. Who would have ever known that his nipples and his cock were connected that tightly? Each time Brian yanked on the nipple ring, his dick jumped inside his lover's mouth. Sliding his shaft free, he fed Brian his balls, dipping them down into his warm maw, tongue encircling the plump sac. He held onto his cock and jacked it, forcing his balls into and out of Brian's mouth, finally settling down to let the man eat as he would. When Brian eventually let go, Justin's nuts felt like they were about to burst.

But he had no time to feel any relief as Brian immediately turned to his asshole. Justin's thighs spread open even wider and he whimpered as Brian's tongue washed over the knotted bud of flesh. He was so hot, so hot and so hard, so tight, and he wanted Brian to open him up. He felt the tip move among the folds of his asshole and he willed his sphincter to open. Brian gripped his thighs and pulled him down tight so that his face was buried between Justin's buttocks and he increased his efforts tenfold. Justin jerked above him as Brian tongued him and nibbled on the edges of his hole. Finally, he opened up and the thick tongue entered him. He shivered, groaning as he was penetrated repeatedly. Precum trickled down his cock and his buttocks tightened.

Giving Justin's hole one last kiss, Brian motioned for him to move. Jerkily, the teen did, his muscles trembling. "Turn on your side," he said, and Justin complied. He raised his lover's leg to open him up and pushed inside. Justin gasped, mouth wide open, and shuddered. Brian's cock filled him and he lay there, helpless. Holding Justin's leg up, Brian began to fuck him. Slowly, patiently, building their level of arousal thrust by easy thrust. In this position they could fuck for much longer than they normally would as he could only take shallow plunges, only the head and a few inches sliding inside to pleasure the teen. But pleasured he was. Uttering tiny cries as Brian continued to work him. His cock lay against his thigh, having lost some of its rigidity but still a rosy color, still twitching occasionally, still oozing precum.

Even when his leg started to cramp from the position it was held in, Justin didn’t complain because the sensation of Brian thrusting in him outweighed the discomfort and he didn't want it to stop. They'd been fucking for so long that he lost all awareness of time. It seemed to him as if they'd always been joined like this, moving slowly against one another, as if they were underwater, their movements thick and lazy.

Then Brian released his leg and eased him onto his belly, still inside him. His cock slid in deeper and Justin took it all. He could feel Brian's balls tight against his ass, the heavy sac slapping his buttocks each time Brian pumped him. He raised his hips, meeting Brian's thrusts, holding him in place as his hole spasmed around his cock.

Brian withdrew and rolled him over, he wanted to see his lover as they fucked. He raised Justin's legs to his shoulders and pressed his fingers on either side of his hole, opening him up. He entered him, then held onto his legs as he rocked against him.

"Oh…" sighed Justin and he took hold of his cock and pressed the head to Brian's belly, then let go. A strand of precum joined them. Brian reached down and gripped his cock, stroked it hard as he fucked him. Justin grabbed the sheets in his fists and arched his back. It was too much, he couldn't hold out, couldn’t keep from coming, couldn't—

Brian's chest pressed against his and they kissed, gasping for air. A cry rose from his belly and raced through his throat to vanish inside Brian's mouth. Cum erupted between them and smeared their skin; filled him and dripped between his cheeks. The smell of it wafted through the air and tickled their noses. 

 

They had managed to stay awake after making love and cut on the TV just as the ball dropped in Times Square and everyone began to sing.

_"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, / And never brought to mind?/ Should auld acquaintance be forgot,/ And days o' auld lang syne."_

"Happy Anniversary."

"Happy Anniversary."

Justin lounged in Brian's arms for a while, then reached for the remote; the noise of the crowds immediately ceased. He got up and rummaged in his bag, brought out a folded piece of cardstock which he handed to Brian after climbing back into bed.

"What's this?"

"I didn't know what to get you for our anniversary…"

Brian opened the card. Inside was an ink drawing of a heart.

"It's all I have."

Enfolding Justin in an embrace, Brian said, "It's all I want, Baby. All I need." 

 

Having built a fire, they curled on the fake (they hoped) bear rug by the hearth and talked and sipped champagne.

"I wonder how Joanie did."

"I bet she did great. I can't wait until we get our house and she can help decorate it."

"I have visions of mega credit card bills dancing in my head."

"You're a partner in a prestigious and very profitable public relations firm. You need an impressive house to entertain important clients."

"So says Justin, the hostess with the mostest."

"Shut up."

"So this house," Brian said. "We should probably figure out what kind we want. We need to tell your mom something if she's helping us look."

"I guess."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Brian nudged him with his foot. "What kind of house do you want?"

"I don't know. Something…" he ventured, "something traditional maybe." Shrugged. "What about you?"

Smiling, Brian replied, "Something modern. Sleek lines. Not too fussy."

Justin laughed. "We're never going to find a place to suit the both of us."

"Well, we have to unless we plan on living in separate houses."

The teen snuggled up to him. "Uh-uh."

"Oh well, I guess we'll know it when we see it."

"That's some plan," snorted Justin.

"Got a better one?"

He had to admit that he didn't. "As long as it has a studio for me, I'm happy."

"No bedroom? No kitchen?" teased Brian.

"Nope. Just a studio."

"Then how about I get whatever kind of house I want and I build you a studio out back?" said Brian, calling him on his bluff.

"I'll just sit on the steps and howl all night until you let me in." Justin howled, "Oww…oww…" Brian opened his arms and Justin crawled into the hollow of his body. "I don't care where we live," Justin said after a while, "just as long as I'm with you."

And even though Brian said nothing, Justin knew that he felt the same way. They were complete in and of themselves. Everything else was just extra. 

 

For decency's sake, they vacated the room so that the cleaning people could change the sheets and clear away the dishes from dinner the night before and breakfast this morning. They could only imagine what the two middle-aged women thought as they removed the cum sticky and stiffened linens from the bed. Maybe they were reminded of their own erotic adventures.

Brian was all for hanging around, not too keen on going out into the nippy morning air but Justin had already begun to feel embarrassed just by the way the women looked at them as they came in, embarrassed by the lingering scent of sex in the room. He turned pink and tugged on Brian's arm as the ladies cleared the table. "Let's go for a walk," he suggested and Brian acquiesced, not fooled for a moment.

Now, as they traipsed through the woods, he wished he'd put up more of a resistance to the idea. It was fucking cold. The tip of his nose felt like it was submerged in ice water. The only positive side to the situation was that Justin rarely moved more than a few inches away from him, gleaning all the heat he could from close contact. They walked, arms about one another, and counted the minutes until the cleaning crew would be done and they could return from their voluntary exile and pile under the covers once more.

Having seen the two women exit the cabin from a vantage point nearby, the two lovers raced back to the warmth of their fireplace. Stripping off all their clothes, they huddled inside a wigwam of cotton-covered down before the hearth and entwined arms and legs about one another.

When they had warmed up, they returned to the bed and snuggled, having no intention of leaving it again for hours to come. At least not until lunch arrived. Or maybe they'd have lunch in bed. To hell with decency, have the waiter place the trays on the nightstands and pretend not to notice that they were naked beneath the sheets.

As he lay on Brian's chest, Justin began to think about the letter he carried in his bag. He'd brought it with him, unable to leave it at home, yet not imagining that he'd find time to look at it again on their trip. Not that he needed to. He remembered every word. Did he dare trust them? And even if Hobbs' intent was truthfully expressed in the letter, what did that mean? Should he go? Why would he? What would he gain from meeting with his attacker? He had faced Hobbs in court, had seen justice done, had even pleaded on his behalf. What more could Chris realistically expect from him?

He wished that he'd talked to someone about it, preferably Keisha. More than once he'd thought about calling her at her office and hadn't. Even when Brian had made arrangements to have her present delivered, Justin hadn't said a word, hadn't volunteered to take it. They hadn't seen her since the previous year but had spoken several times by phone and remained friendly enough that they had remembered to buy her something in Europe as well. Both she and Drew. Brian had gotten him a very expensive, authentic Venetian carnival mask. Not the junk sold to tourists but a mask that had been worn by a very minor Venetian nobleman a hundred years earlier. He'd felt that Drew would understand, having helped him remove the mask he'd worn for so long to reveal the person hidden beneath. Keisha they'd gotten a wig worn by barristers in England. Brian had laughed thinking of her braids dangling from beneath the proper powdered wig.

I should have called her, Justin told himself. She would have been practical, matter-of-fact about her advice. But he hadn't called her and he felt uneasy keeping things from Brian, especially something as important as this.

He kept his worries to himself for a while longer until after the waiter had come and gone, leaving lunch. They ate it in bed, then forced themselves to rise and set the dirty dishes on the dining table. Just as they were about to return to bed, Justin opened his bag and got out the letter. Handed it to Brian.

"What is it?" he asked, sliding beneath the covers.

"A letter." He paused. "From Chris Hobbs."

Brian held it as if it had transformed into an asp. "Is this a joke?"

"Read it." Justin found his briefs and slipped them on. He had a feeling they wouldn't be making love any time soon.

When Brian finished reading the letter, he returned it to the envelope and tossed it on the bed. "So?"

"So what should I do?"

Brian's expression hardened. "You aren't seriously considering going to meet that psychopath?"

"He sounded sincere."

"Fuck that! And fuck him!"

"Brian—" The man had gotten up and was putting on his trousers. "Brian, listen to me."

"No. You listen to me. I don’t want you going anywhere near him. I mean it."

"What are you saying?"

"I’m saying you're not going."

Sometimes it made him so angry, that Brian felt that he could tell him what to do just because he was older by a dozen years. He was an adult, he could make his own decisions. He didn't need or want anyone telling him what to do. "You don’t have any right!"

"I have every right!"

"I’m not a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!" He strode away from the bed, turned swiftly. "What the fuck? What is it? Do you think everyone in the world is a good person? That all they need is to be shown the way? That all you have to do is to come bopping along and give them a helping hand?"

"No, but—"

"Wake up. He's scum. He tried to fucking kill you. I was there!"

"I was there too!"

"Then what the hell are you talking about? Why are you carrying that letter around? Throw it away and forget you ever saw it."

"I can't."

Brian turned from Justin because at that moment, he wanted to shake him, shake some sense into him.

Justin moved to the foot of the bed. "It's just a visit," he said, trying to explain.

He faced him angrily. "You don't owe him a goddamn thing!"

"I know that."

"But you do owe me something."

"I know that you saved me—" Everyone had said it, said it until he was almost sick of hearing it.

Brian snatched the card with the heart drawn on it from the nightstand. "You owe me this! This is what you promised me." He waved his ring hand in the air. "This ring says you promised to put me first, before anyone else. That's what you promised."

"And I meant it. You can't believe—"

"Then throw it away. Throw it in the goddamn fire and forget it. Forget him. If you love me, you'll do it."

Justin half-rose. "Why can't you understand?" Brian picked up the letter and held it out to Justin. The teen studied Brian's face. There was no compromise possible, no further negotiations. He took the letter and crossed to the fireplace. Held it for a long moment, then tossed it into the flames. Watched as the edges turned black and curled up. Hobbs' words consumed and unmade. Still, he stood looking at the ashes.

Softly, Brian said to his back, "When I saw you fall, I thought you were dead. And I died too. I didn't think that you'd be alive because nothing in the world had ever given me any hope. That's what the world had taught me. That good things didn't happen to me. So I went after him. To stop him. Because he had hurt me. And then I went back to you because I didn't know what else to do. But I didn't have any hope, Justin. None. And when I picked you up and I realized that you were alive… I started to hope. You gave me hope." Justin turned. "For the first time in my life. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You're the most precious thing in the world to me. So I don’t have any pride, any scruples, any morals when it comes to keeping you safe. The whole fucking world could go up in flames and I wouldn't care. Not as long as I had you." Justin rushed to him and fell into his arms. "I know it isn't fair," he said, "putting all of this on you. But I don't have any choice… because I love you."

Justin kissed his face, kissed the tears that had run down his cheeks. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He held him and his heart pounded in his chest, and with each beat of his heart, love sped through his veins until there was no place in his body that was not fed by it. 

 

They left early Friday morning, anxious to return home. Not that the cabin hadn't been nice but they missed Gus, missed their friends, missed sleeping in their own bed. Although the trip wasn't very long, Justin had begun to doze a little. When the car stopped, he woke up thinking they were home. They weren't.

They were in front of SCI Pittsburgh.

Justin looked over at his lover who was staring straight ahead and gripping the steering wheel of the Jeep. "Brian?"

"I was wrong. I don't have any right to tell you what to do. You're my partner, not my child. You're a grown man, and you can make your own decisions. Besides that, I don't want to change you. I love you. That means all of you. The good, the bad, the aggravating, the annoying…"

"Hey!"

"And I trust you. With my life. So if you say you have to do this, then you do it. And I'll be waiting for you when you're done."

Cupping Brian's face in his hand, Justin kissed him gently. "I won't be long." 

 

The minutes passed slowly while Justin was gone, giving him more than enough time to retrace the steps of their relationship from its rocky beginnings to their most recent flare-up; and through it all, what he admired most about the teen was his tenacity, his determination, his loyalty, and his honesty. He imagined them, years from now, still fighting, still disagreeing, and still in love. Imagined Justin, older, but just as bright, just as open as he was now. He didn't believe that anything could quench his spirit. He had a strength that came from within, that came from his sense of self. It’s what drew him to the teen in the beginning, it's what kept him interested when all others had ceased to be interesting, and it's what he yearned for even when he wasn't sure just what it was he wanted, needed. Smiling, he remembered Justin singing in the car, "You love me. You love me sooo much," and him wanting to say, "I do," but being afraid to, afraid that he would fail Justin. He knew now that he didn't have to depend on his strength alone, that they had each other, and together they were stronger than they were apart, together they were able to face almost anything. Even Chris Hobbs. Even with everything that had happened afterwards, they still had that dance at the prom. They still had that moment and a thousand others.

The door opened and Justin got in and slammed it shut. "Ready?"

"You?"

He nodded. "Yep." Took a deep breath. "You think Lindsay and Mel would let us keep Gus this weekend?"

"Always ask. They can only say no." He started the Jeep and pulled away from the prison. They would talk later. 

 

Justin was sitting on the bed with his sketch pad on his lap when Brian returned with Gus, the toddler wearing his SpongeBob SquarePants backpack and carrying both Beh and his new red truck.

Instantly, the toddler began to run but Brian caught the back of his knapsack after about four steps and held him tight until he could squat down next to him and get his attention. "Listen up, it's okay to run in the house but I don't want you running up and down the stairs. Understand?"

"Yeah," the toddler said but Brian didn't think he did.

"I don't want you falling and hurting yourself again. Remember when you hurt your arm?" Gus nodded and held out the arm that had been bumped. "That's right. So no running up and down the steps. Okay?"

" 'kay, Daddy."

Brian took Beh and the red truck and let Gus go. The baby ran to the steps and stopped. Looked back at Brian and then slowly climbed them. Once he was on the next level, he ran to the bed.

Justin, who had heard Brian's talk, smiled. He opened his arms to Gus and hugged him. "Did you miss me?"

"Yeah. Miss you."

"I missed you too," and he gave the baby a big kiss which Gus returned with equal enthusiasm if not skill.

Entering the bedroom and putting down Gus' things, Brian came over and leaned in for a kiss as well. "Did you miss me?"

"Terribly," he replied, then solicited and savored a second kiss since Brian was, without a doubt, the world's best kisser.

"Mmm… You can show me how much. Later. After you know who is asleep."

"It's a date."

But, when Gus had finally gone to bed, having run off roasted chicken and ice cream, they found themselves sitting on the couch and talking about Justin's visit to the prison.

"He was different somehow."

"I hear prison can do that to you."

"I'm serious. He seemed… at peace. Like whatever he'd been running from, he'd just stopped and faced it."

Brian nodded. "Himself probably."

"Probably." The teen leaned back against Brian's chest. "He said that he was sorry for what he'd done."

"Did you believe him?"

"I think so. I told him that I couldn't forgive him, not just yet. I can't forget what he did and how much damage he caused, to me, to you. I want to but I can't."

Brian tightened his hold on him. "No one expects you to be a saint. It's okay to be angry."

"I think I was lucky. That I found you. You and the guys, you helped me be the person I was meant to be. I could have ended up like him, confused, not knowing what I wanted."

"But you did. Baby, you came looking for it." He laughed. "Fucking seventeen-years-old, standing under a goddamn lamplight."

"You came over and you said, 'Had a busy night?' "

"And you said you'd just been hitting the bars. Boy Toy, Meat Hook." He laughed again.

"You asked me if I was heading someplace special and I said no."

"And I said, 'I can change that.' "

"And you did." Justin looked up at him, into his warm hazel eyes, and smiled. He touched Brian's face, his platinum ring brushing against his lightly tanned skin. "And I've never regretted going with you. No matter where."

"Me neither." They curled together and just lay there, content just to listen to one another breathe, and then Brian said, "Someone's going to be twenty in a few weeks. What do you want for your birthday?"

And Justin laughed deep and low, remembering Brian asking him that question on a dance floor in Babylon. A lot of things had changed in those two years, the biggest being that he didn't have to ask for anything this time around—because he already had everything he wanted.

Except maybe…

"What about a commitment ceremony?"

Thud. 

 

**Songs:**

"My Best Friend," by Ron Sexsmith from Cobblestone Runway, Nettwerk Records, 2002.


	13. Object d'Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin works on the first of six drawings commissioned by Kenneth Harris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A birthday story for my friend, Sharon, the best lunch buddy ever.)

"Here," I say, and I hand him his burnt sienna sweater, the one he wore to Into the Woods. I love seeing him in it, or half in it, as it generally manages to slide off one or the other shoulder with every move he makes. You can almost hear it as it slips over his hard muscles, but the sound is an illusion, the sweater strikes silently. One moment you're having a rational conversation and then he shifts and that sweater dips over his shoulder and you can't remember there ever having been a time when you were doing anything other than tracking its progress: the way it glides over his flesh. The sound in your head is an glissando of notes. It's magical, that sweater. I would write an ode to it if I were a writer but since I'm a visual artist, I'll do what I can: I'll draw it. More importantly, I'll draw it with him in it. As one of the six sketches I’ve been commissioned to do for Kenneth Harris.  
Despite having sold the idea to Brian, I'm not as confident about the commission as I seemed. Not about the execution of the work; I could draw Brian all day every day and every picture would turn out perfect. I'm having second thoughts about handing over my feelings for him to a man who's admitted to being in love with him. I don't know if I should be encouraging him, feeding those feelings. He says he wants to be Brian's friend, to be my friend as well and I guess it's possible. Xavier and I are friends even after everything we've been through. He and Brian will never be though. I'm not naïve or stupid enough to believe that.

But Kenneth Harris, unlike Xavier, hasn't moved on. He's still obsessed with Brian despite Brian's protests to the contrary. He jokes about it because he doesn’t want to think about it seriously, because he's still ashamed of what he did in Los Angeles. As much as I hate what happened, I would have hated it more if he'd slept with Kenneth. Kenneth… makes me feel insecure. I feel as if I can't make any mistakes with Brian anymore because if I do, Harris will be right there, ready to take my place. Brian has told me over and over again that he has no interest in Kenneth, that he doesn't want Harris, he wants me. But what if I were out of the picture? Then what? How long would he hold out before succumbing to Kenneth's affections? The man is good-looking, successful, smart, rich—he's Brian's perfect match, I know that. He can offer Brian things I could never give him probably. And he's older, he's done things Brian hasn't so, for once, Brian would be the one who follows, who learns instead of always having to teach, to be an example for me.

So why am I doing these sketches for him?

Brian takes the sweater and puts it on. It's all he has on. His hair is messy as if he'd just gotten up. I think he's his sexiest when he's got bed hair. Maybe that's because usually we've just made love. I guess I could call it love hair. You can almost see the paths my fingers took as they raked through the brown and auburn locks. We haven't made love though, I just stood in front of him and messed up his hair. I may have to do a few touch ups after I decide where to put him. I have an idea.

Comes from another of his admirers: Trevor Janson. Every time I see him now at PIFA, I feel helplessly angry. Knowing that he's been with Brian, that Brian let him fuck him. In our bed. I try not to let it bother me, after all, Brian has to deal with Xavier, but I can't help it. I want--I want Trevor to vanish so that I can get rid of those feelings. But he won't. I wonder what he did with the statue he'd started of Brian. I wonder if he keeps it covered in his studio, in his apartment, taking the tarp off to stare at Brian's image. Maybe, in time, the statue would grow old and Brian would stay young, like Dorian's portrait. He'd like that.

I lead Brian over to the chaise lounge. "Straddle it and then lie back," I tell him and he does so, his long legs stretched out on either side of the seat, beautiful feet on the floor. "Raise your right arm and put it behind your head." The sweater rises up, exposing his genitals. They hang down between his open thighs. His pubic hair is but a darker shade of the sweater. Having raised one arm, the movement forces the sweater to slide off his left shoulder. He has the longest, smoothest neck. His sexuality assaults you despite his passive pose. You can sense the erotic potential of the bare neck and shoulders, the naked legs, the shadowed cock and balls. I want more.

"Lift the hem of the sweater up over your stomach." He pushes it up with his left hand, exposing his abdomen, tight with muscles and I almost say fuck it, fuck the sketch. God, I want him so badly, I want to--

No. We're here to work. I open my eyes and find that his are fixed on me, their naked hazel gaze piercing me like a laser beam, penetrating me more deeply than his dick ever has. He knows me. Better than anyone in the world, sometimes better than I know myself. He knew when I was thinking about going to Dartmouth that being a business student wasn't what I wanted and he knew why I was doing it, knew enough to challenge me, to advise me, to comfort me. That was the first time that I knew, really really knew that he cared for me, that he might even love me despite my teasing him about it earlier in the Jeep. "You love me," I sang. "You love me soo much," and loved the way he refused to deny it, the way he glared like a lion with no teeth or claws.

But this sketch isn't about me, it's about him. I need to be objective. "Close your eyes," I say and the hazel light goes out and I feel steadier again. But only just a little. The sight of his half-naked body arouses me. I feel the first, faint stirrings of an erection. Good thing I put on my sweats this morning. Although it's going to be distracting working with a hard-on all afternoon.

I flip open my sketch pad and walk around him, trying to figure out the best vantage point from which to draw him. The most obvious would be to sketch him dead-on from the front but I reject that. The thing about Brian is that although his obvious physical beauty is probably the first thing that catches your eye, that's not the reason you fall for him. There are plenty of beautiful men in the world but there's only one Brian. At least until Gus grows up and, even then, he'll be different. His set of circumstances will have made him into a different person from the man Brian is. Brian is more than just a beautiful face, a sexy body. He's like one of those pictures that look like a regular portrait from a distance but when you get up close you realize that the portrait is made up of hundreds of smaller pictures. That's Brian. You look at him and think that you see him when you see the hazel eyes and brown hair, the tall, slender frame, the raspberry red lips. But that's only on the outside. What's inside is so much more important. And that's the part that's hardest to get to. All he used to offer his tricks was the outside. They never got to see what was inside the seductive package but I did. I forced my way in; I was like a kid at Christmas who just knows that the biggest, brightest wrapped gift is his. I took what I wanted and no matter how hard he fought, I never stopped reaching. Sometimes I changed tactics but my goal was always in sight.

I knew from the moment I met him that I had to have him, all of him. Hearing his voice for the first time, I wanted to kiss him and take it inside me, the way I would later take his cock. I wanted to know him. Not that I had the words or the thoughts even to express my desires. Like all the others, at first, I was pretty taken with the wrapping but, later on, I began to hunger for more, for all of him, for the parts I knew he was keeping from me. I would see him with Mikey and the guys and I wanted that Brian. I wanted the Brian I had seen holding his son for the first time. I wanted the Brian who had sucked his coach off in the locker room at the age of fourteen. I wanted the man who once told me, "I love… the way your skin feels when I touch you. I love touching you. I love your smile." And I got him.

Only, like most things, I hadn't been completely cognizant of what I was getting or whom. He was and is a more complex man than he seems from the outside. As strong as he is, I want to protect him--I have to protect him; as beautiful as he is, there are ugly places inside him; as dark as he seems on the outside, there is a light, an aura about him that shines so bright. And now I want the man who cried because he couldn't be all things to all people; who was never sure if he was good enough; who was always pushing himself to be the best so that everyone would want him and he'd never be rejected again. He's a mass of contradictions, a conundrum. And as complicated as he is, he generates feelings just as complex in others. His seduction is far from simple.

So I reject the head-on pose because that's not the way it works, his sensuality. It is a more subtle thing. I circle him. A more oblique thing. I pause at his head and look down the line of his body. From my vantage point I can see the top of his head, the tip of his nose, the sienna covered chest, a thatch of pubic hair, and the tops of his thighs. Parts. Parts that fool you into thinking they make up the entire man, concealing the other hidden components. That was the way it worked.

Taking a stool from the bar, I perch at his head and begin to draw. He doesn't grumble as I spend the next two hours capturing him in the pages of my pad. As the light changes, so do my impressions of him, until he is almost all shadows. 

 

I've finished the preliminary drawings. Later, I'll begin work on the actual portrait. Much later.

Putting down my sketch pad, I move the stool back to its customary place and return to the head of the chaise lounge. He's still sprawled out on it, having no qualms about lying around half-naked. I've never known anyone more comfortable in their bare skin.

"Through?" he asks, the first words he's spoken for over two hours. He understands the concentration needed to work.

"Um-hm," I say and slide my hands down his chest, rest my head on the top of his crown. He waits. I clench the sweater in my hands and rub it over his chest and belly, slowly, sensually as if I were gently washing away the day's dirt. He stretches beneath my strokes, catlike, pleased. I mold my hands to his pecs and rotate my palms over his nipples, feeling them harden through the thin material. Moving around to the side of the chair, I bend over and kiss him while reaching for his cock. Grip it beneath the smooth material and rub his balls. He exhales inside my mouth, urging me on. I continue to stroke him until he starts to swell. Pausing in my ministrations, I look down at him, at the bulge beneath the sweater that matches the one at my crotch. Swiftly, I undress and climb onto the chaise lounge, sit on the seat facing him. As if unwrapping a gift, I slide the edge of the sweater up over his cock. It springs from its confinement, offering itself.

Accepting, I bow my back and take him between my lips. My tongue lazily inscribes circles around the head. Then I begin to tap the tip with my tongue. That never fails to excite me when he does it to me. Slowly at first, then faster, faster in tempo, a song I sing upon his flesh, la la la la la. I hold onto his thighs and feel his muscles tense in response to my actions. I love his cock. I rotate my head, I tug on him, I slide down the length of his shaft and tighten my lips about the root. Moan around him, sending vibrations from base to tip. And he moans. And he raises his feet from the floor so that only the toes remain in contact with the tile. And he lightly grips the back of my head and holds me still while he catches his breath. When his breathing slows once more, I begin again. As I suck him, I can feel my own cock pressing against the leather seat below me. I know that I'm dripping, my cockhead slides through wetness. My hole clenches and releases in time to the throbbing of Brian's dick against my tongue. It wants him inside. I want him inside.

Sitting upright, I stand and move until I'm crouched over his groin. I push at his sweater and reach for his cock. He takes the hem from me and holds it up while I position his erection. Spit slicked and slippery with precum, it presses against my hole and slides inside. I release the breath I've been holding and slowly sit down upon his lap. He was right, that first time, when I asked him if it would always hurt and he said, "A little. But that's part of it." Even that gives me pleasure. Inches of hard cock push up me. At the end of the trip, I close my eyes and lean my head against his shoulder, savoring the feel of him lodged inside me.

And then we fuck. So hard I can barely breathe. There'll be another note from the super for sure tomorrow morning. I'm moaning and I don't care who hears it cause it feels so good. My entire body is flushed, I'm so hot I want to come out of my skin. And we fuck. The chaise lounge creaking from our exertions, sweat dropping from my forehead to land on his sweater. I grab the sweater, twist it in my fist and drag it over his head, trapping his arms. The sight of him bound turns me on. His face is hidden but I can hear him breathing, I can see the fabric fluttering. He looks helpless and yet I'm the one impaled on him. I'm fixed on his erection but I control our fucking.

Nipples the color of cinnamon stand out from his chest. I lean over and lick one, suck on it, nip it with my teeth and hear him cry out, the sound muffled by silk and wool. Impossibly, his dick hardens even more.

Mouth open, one hand bunched up in the sweater to keep it in place, I ride his cock. I love his cock. I could sing songs about it, about how beautiful it is, how beautiful it feels inside me, how complete it makes me feel, how beautiful. I gyrate my hips lazily, dancing for him. For a moment I'm tempted to turn around and take him inside me from behind so that he can watch my ass move as we fuck. He loves my ass. He tells me that all the time. When we kiss and he cups it in his hands; when he walks behind me, watching my hips sway; when he has me opened up beneath him, his tongue buried in my hole; when he kneels behind me and fucks me til I scream. But it feels too good right now, just the way we are, and I don't want to break the connection, not even for a moment. And I don't want to release his arms or uncover his face.

Just the sight of him bound like that has made my cock rock-hard. It juts against his belly, smearing his skin with silvery precum. I reach for it with my free hand, fingers sliding over the slick head. Press the tip against his navel. The wrinkled button is like a tiny asshole and I push against it as if I want to enter him. The sensation, coupled with the idea of fucking him while he's fucking me, makes me dizzy. I tighten around him and he gasps, shudders. _Now. Now_ , something inside me says. Before I lose all strength in my legs, I stand, still holding the edge of the sweater, now holding my cock as well, and I thrust it against his cloth-covered mouth. The soft fibers of the sweater abrade my tender flesh and I wince but the sensation is pleasurable nonetheless. Harder and harder I thrust against his face until I feel my dick swell one last time and I come. Creamy strands crisscross the sienna-colored hills and valleys of his face like paths to some hidden place that only he and I know. Releasing my cock, I grip the back of the lounge until I'm able to stand unaided. I still have the sweater twisted in my fist. I push down on his head and he understands, slides forward until he's lying supine on the chair. I no longer have to keep the make-shift hood and restraints in place; gravity does that for me.

Again I sit between his legs and I again I face his cock. I grasp him in my fist and pull. The ripe head expands. I stroke him again and his dick jumps in my hand. His muffled cries communicate his need. I tug harder, faster until his back suddenly arches and his cock head opens to release thick streams of cum. I direct them towards my face. He comes on my skin, pale streaks in faint relief against my pale complexion. Sometimes I dream about bathing in his cum, about kneeling at his feet as he showers me with spunk, so much that I can open my mouth and drink my fill, rub it over my nipples, my belly, my cock. Even though, in reality, he can't come like that, he's still my fantasy and I love every drop that falls on me. And when he's done, I crawl up him and kiss his mouth, still trapped behind his mask. I can't see his face but I know him: I know every inch of him, every expression, every desire, every need. I know him by heart.

I kiss him and rub my face against his until our cum mixes and soaks the strands of his burnt sienna sweater.


	14. One Hand, One Heart ~ Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin buy a new house and hold a commitment ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: **This story is approximately 300 pages long and posted in two parts.****

"Are you all right?" Brian looked up from the floor where he'd landed and held out a hand to be helped up. "I think we need a wider couch."

"I think you need to warn me before you spring something like that on me," he said, this time sitting next to Justin. "So," he asked quietly, "are you serious?"

Justin could tell Brian wasn't as calm as he seemed. He could almost hear the older man's heart pounding and not from the exertion of the fall, from the thought of them publicly exchanging vows. So he replied, with a soft smile, "No. I was just joking."

Kissing him, Brian rose. "Not funny. Come on, I'm beat."

Dutifully, Justin followed him to the bedroom where Gus slept, Beh next to him in the middle of the bed, something precious to be protected by them, their larger bodies on either side of the pair, buffering them.

"I can't wait until we find a new place and he gets his own room and his own bed," Brian said, but Justin knew Brian would miss Gus' warmth. He would too.

After kissing and moving to opposite sides of the bed, they got in with the toddler and called it a night. Only Justin couldn't sleep. He kept replaying his response in his head, "No. I was just joking." Turning over, away from Brian and Gus, he stared at the blinds that hung on the glass wall of the bedroom, the blinds they almost always forgot to close so that the sunlight came in at first light. It would be such a simple thing, to close the blinds before going to bed but they nearly always forgot. "No. I was just joking." Such a simple thing to have told the truth. To have said, "Yes, I am. I am serious. I want to marry you." Yet he had not. After a while he heard the familiar sound of Brian softly snoring. He eased his right hand from beneath the covers and gazed at the band of platinum that gleamed even in the darkness. Inside the words, Forever faithful, Brian. He could feel them pressing against his skin even though they'd been engraved and weren't raised but rather recessed. He felt Gus stir in his sleep, his tiny hand accidentally brushing against his hip. What did it matter if they were married or not? He had the man, the ring, and a family. Who needed a wedding? No one. You wanted a wedding; no one needed one. So who wanted a wedding?

He closed his eyes.

I do.

Such a simple thing. 

 

Waking with an urge to pee, Gus crawled to the foot of the bed and carefully got down and walked to the bathroom. The light was on for which he was glad because even though he wasn't afraid of the dark, sometimes there were scary things in the darkness and the light helped keep them away. So did Beh but he couldn't take Beh into the bathroom. Beh liked to stay under the covers where it was warm. So did he. But he had to pee.

He climbed upon his footstool and pulled down his trainers and peed, the liquid making a very satisfying sound as it splashed in the water. He liked that sound. When he was done, he pulled up his trainers and got down. Flushed the toilet, loving the whooshing sound the water made. He wondered where the water went but his Mommy told him that he shouldn't put his head in the bowl to see. So he didn't. He reached for a wipe, the box up on the counter so he had to feel around for it because he couldn’t see up that high. Usually Daddy or Daddy Jusin handed him one but they were both asleep. He got the container at last and pulled one out the way he'd seen Daddy do and pushed the box back onto the counter. Dropped the wadded up wipe into the wastepaper basket. Went back to bed.

Daddy was making funny sounds in his sleep. Daddy Jusin too but they weren't as loud. Gus stood next to Daddy and watched him. Daddy was very pretty. He liked looking at him. He had such pretty lips. That's why Daddy Jusin liked to kiss him so much, cause Daddy was so pretty. Gus reached out and touched Brian's face, touched his lips. So soft. Daddy moved and opened his mouth and Gus snatched back his hand, afraid Daddy would eat his fingers. Then he giggled, remembering how Daddy had tried to eat him, saying he tasted like cookies. No, he didn't. He didn't taste like any food. He tasted like Gus. He wondered what Daddy tasted like. Leaning close to Brian, Gus licked his face. Daddy didn't taste like cookies either. Or carrots or chicken or peas or hamburger. Daddy, he decided, must taste like Daddy.

Brian opened his eyes and saw Gus' face a few inches from his own. Sleepily, he said, "Hey, Sonny Boy."

"Hey, Daddy."

He moved over and Gus crawled in next to him, the bed warm where Daddy had lain. Gus liked that and snuggled close to Brian. Daddy smelled good. He felt good. Gus closed his eyes and soon was asleep again. 

 

Having slept another hour or so, Brian woke, feeling that Gus was looking at him. He was right. The toddler's bright eyes were fixed on him. He wondered what Gus thought about, why he studied him so. Maybe it was like when Justin used to watch him as he slept: it seemed to be the only time they could catch him with his guard down. Except that wasn't true anymore. Both Justin and Gus had a way of getting through his defenses and leaving him utterly open and yet completely safe.

Silently, Gus moved closer to him and touched his face. Brian leaned over and kissed him on the nose and Gus giggled and rubbed his button nose against Brian's considerably larger one.

"You like looking at Daddy, don't you?" Brian asked and Gus nodded. "Why? Why do you like looking at Daddy?" he asked, unable to refrain from doing so.

"Daddy pretty," Gus said and he stroked Brian's cheek.

Which was one of the reasons Justin said he watched him as well. "Because you're beautiful," he would say.

"I think you're pretty too," Brian told the baby and Gus agreed.

"Daddy Jusin pretty," he said softly.

"Yeah," agreed Brian. "He is." He smiled. "How about all of us pretty boys going out to have breakfast this morning?"

"Uh-huh," answered Gus.

"We can go see Debbie."

Gus clapped his hands. He liked Debbie. "Debbee."

"We can have… pancakes."

"Pancakes!" yelled Gus.

"Shh…" Brian told him. "You'll wake Daddy."

Justin said quietly, "I'm already awake."

Climbing over Brian, Gus crawled onto Justin and kissed him. "Hey, Daddy."

"Hey. You want pancakes for breakfast?"

"Yeah."

Brian rolled over and started to give Justin a kiss too but something in the teen's eyes told him not to attempt it. He reached for Gus instead. "We better take a shower then." He placed the baby on the floor. "Go to the bathroom and take off your clothes and wait for me." Gus ran off to do as he was told. Waiting a moment, Brian asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Brian moved closer to him but Justin shrank away. "Nothing, huh?"

From the bathroom came a muffled cry. "Daddy! Helmp!"

Leaving the discussion for later, Brian went to investigate and found Gus stumbling around with his shirt caught on his head. He'd gotten stuck. Brian took hold of him, "Stand still," and pulled it off. "Some genius," he said and chuckled because he couldn't help it. He'd done the same thing probably as a two-year-old. Justin had done it just last year.

Gus looked pissed. He snatched the shirt from Brian and threw it on the floor. "Bad!"

Lord love him, Gus was just like him. Some poor girl or guy was gonna catch hell one day. "And what did the shirt do wrong?"

Pouting, Gus replied, "Tuck."

"You got stuck?"

"Tuck."

Trying not to laugh, Brian reprimanded the shirt too. "Bad shirt."

"Bad," agreed Gus.

While the toddler waited, Brian undressed and turned on the water. Tested it. Heard Gus calling to Justin. He poked his head out of the shower. "Come on. Daddy Justin's taking his shower later," because he didn’t think Justin was joining them. Something had pissed him off too. You know what it is, he told himself. But he said he was joking. Only neither one of them was laughing now.

Gus joined him in the shower stall and ran in place.

"Too hot?"

He shook his head and reached for his soap and began to rub it over his body the way Daddy did.

After soaping himself and rinsing off, Brian squatted and made sure Gus was clean too. "Close your eyes," he said and washed the toddler's hair, then held him under the gentle jets of water until all of the suds were gone.

Gus squirmed as Brian wrapped him in a huge red towel and dried him off and as soon as Brian released him, he took the towel and flopped about playing ghost and peek-a-boo until Brian shook his head and turned to shaving.

The towel lost its allure then. Gus was mesmerized by the ritual of shaving, so much so that Justin was able to come in and get into the shower before Gus noticed his appearance. Even then, all he did was look away from Brian for a second before turning back to see what he was doing next.

Noticing how intently Gus was watching him, Brian placed a dot of shaving gel on the tip of the toddler's nose. Gus opened his mouth real wide, then laughed. He sat contentedly on the top of the commode until Brian was finished and then, apparently, he decided that it was time for Justin to come out of the shower because he went over and banged on the outside. "Daddy!"

"Hey," called Brian, "stop that. Let Justin shower in peace."

Gus ignored him completely. "Daddy!"

Just as Brian was about to get him, Justin came out of the shower looking rather perturbed.

If Brian noticed it, Gus was blissfully unaware. "Daddy, I hungry."

Intervening, Brian picked him up. "Do me a favor and go play with Beh. I think he's lonely."

"I hungry," Gus said again, not sure if they understood.

"I know. We'll eat soon." He released Gus and waited until he'd gone from the bathroom before sliding the door close. "So?"

Justin didn't look up from drying off. "So what?"

"What's wrong?"

"I told you nothing's wrong."

"So you're in a snit for no reason?"

Emphasizing each word, which let Brian know that he was in a snit despite what he said, Justin replied, "I am not in a snit."

"Kiss me."

"What?" he said, caught off-guard by the question.

"Kiss me. You always kiss me good morning. I want my kiss." Brian moved closer but the teen brushed by him.

"Gus is waiting for his pancakes," he said, opening and closing the sliding door behind him.

Sitting on the toilet lid, Brian rubbed his face. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck." 

 

By the time they reached the diner, even Gus realized something was wrong with Justin and he tried to cheer him up by giving him Beh to sit with since Justin refused to sit next to Brian and Gus wanted to sit beside Brian himself. He figured Beh would be the next best thing but Justin didn't seem to be cheered up by the leather bear.

Discontentment radiated from him. Brian could almost see it emanating in ice blue waves. It was with great relief that Brian saw Deb coming, relief and trepidation because she was certain to notice something was wrong with Justin and she'd want to know what it was and probably wouldn’t take no for an answer and the last thing he wanted was for Deb to get involved in the situation. Luckily, just as she neared the table, Michael pushed through the front door.

"Hey, Ma."

"Michael!" Big hug and kiss. "Look who's here."

He headed for their table with his mom in tow. "Hi, guys."

"Hey, Mikey."

"Hi, Gus."

"Hey." He knew who that was. That was Mikey. Mikey was Daddy's friend.

As Michael went to sit next to Justin, the teen got up abruptly and started to walk away but Brian caught hold of him. "Where the—"

"Let go of me," he said tightly and snatched his hand from Brian's grip, giving him a little push in the process before he stormed out of the diner.

Angrily, Brian stood, unsure what he was going to do but feeling hot, and it was only Deb's hand on his arm that stopped him. She looked frighten. "Brian." He moved away from her but she held onto him. "Brian," she said again and this time he paused. "Maybe you should just leave him alone for a while."

Gently, he pulled away from her and followed Justin outside. They were going to deal with this now. Fuck later.

Michael started to go after them but she shook her head. "Let them work it out."

He wasn't the only one with the idea of going after them, but he stopped Gus from following. "Hey, Gus, are you hungry?"

The baby, distracted by the offer of food, forgot about his feuding parents but Deb, still worried despite her advice to Michael, looked out the window at them.

Brian had caught up with Justin and grabbed him again. "Don't you fuckin' walk away from me." He let go not wanting to get into a public tussle in front of the diner. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Justin glared at him. "What do you care? You obviously don’t want to be with me—"

"Where the fuck did that come from?"

"If you can't even say in public that you love me—"

"How the—"

"Just leave me alone," he said and started away again.

"Justin, let's talk about this."

He glanced back at Brian. "There's nothing to talk about. You said how you felt."

"No, I didn't. I asked you if you were serious and you said no." There was no point in pretending that he didn't know why Justin was so upset.

"Because you, obviously, don't want to marry me. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Sitting there like a fucking idiot thinking that you loved me—"

"I do!"

"Not enough to— What does it matter? You don't want to do it, so forget it. Forget I ever mentioned it." With that he left.

Brian stood outside for a moment, painfully aware that everyone in the diner had witnessed their fight and he was determined not to scream. So he remained where he was until the urge passed and then he trudged back inside. Michael was talking with Gus. The toddler jumped up when he returned.

"Daddy?"

He took him in his arms.

"Where Daddy?"

"He's right there," Michael told the baby.

"No," explained Brian, "he calls Justin Daddy too."

Michael's mouth dropped open. "He calls Justin Daddy?"

"Where Daddy?" Gus asked again.

Brian sniffled. "He wasn't hungry."

Noticing that Brian hadn't answered Gus' question, Michael tried one of his own. "You okay?"

"Perfect."

"Why don’t I believe you?"

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Maybe I should have asked what's wrong."

"We seem to be experiencing a breakdown in communication."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter." Justin would never forgive him if he told Mikey. Fortuitously, Deb arrived with Gus' pancakes and Michael's eggs and bacon.

"Here you go, Big Boy, one order of pancakes."

"Tank you" He waited for his daddy to cut them up for him.

She gave Brian a look. "What about you?"

"Coffee," he replied as he finished preparing Gus' pancakes for him.

"Coffee isn't food."

He felt ill. How many fucking times could they screw up and still be able to put things right again? "I don't want anything."

Again she asked, "What about you?" each word enunciated which meant she was serious.

Giving in, he said, "I'll eat some of Gus' pancakes."

"I'll bring you extra. Gus looks like he might not be sharing today," and she laughed because the toddler had begun tearing into his pancakes. "Didn't you feed him last night?"

"He's inherited Justin's…" looked away, "appetite."

"Kiddo…" Brian shook his head. "You and Justin are so good together. I know you'll work it out."

"That's more than I know."

"Of course it is. I'm smarter than you."

"Smart enough not to get involved with a twink twelve years younger than you."

Cutting in, Michael said to his mom, "Did you know Gus calls Justin Daddy?"

"He should cause he is." Deb went to put in his order.

Waiting a moment, Michael asked, "Things that bad?"

"I don't know." Exasperated, he added, "I don't know anything anymore. How did I go from knowing exactly what I wanted out of life and how to get it to this? I feel like… like I never know what the hell to say or do. Because it's always wrong, whatever it is."

"Daddy?"

Brian took a deep breath before answering. "Yeah?"

Gus offered him a piece of pancake. "Here." It was all he had to make Daddy feel better. Touched, Brian leaned over and Gus fed it to him. "Good?" he asked cause Daddy was smiling.

"Good."

Gus went back to eating, content now that Daddy was happy again. 

 

He'd heard the elevator door open and close, surprised that Brian had taken it, that he hadn't taken the stairs to give himself more time to calm down. That he was pissed was probably a given. Justin didn't know what to say to him to make it all right between them. So he waited until Brian came inside and said the only thing that came to mind. "Hey."

Putting his keys down on the kitchen counter, Brian didn't look around as he answered. "Hey."

Talking to his back, he asked, "Where's Gus?"

"I took him home. Figured he could do without watching us fight."

"I'm sorry. I know you only have a little time with him—"

"Where did you go?"

So Brian didn't want his apology. He answered his question. "Movies." Brian crossed the room and started up the steps to the bedroom. "Brian?"

He paused. "We just came home yesterday from celebrating our first anniversary and today we're fucking screaming at each other in the street."

"I'm sorry." He really was. He had no idea how they'd gotten to that angry place again.

Brian ran roughshod right over his apology. "If you wanted a commitment ceremony, why didn't you just say it?"

"I thought I did." He had. Brian just hadn't wanted to hear it.

"We joked about it the entire summer and all of a sudden you're serious? How was I supposed to know that? Why couldn't you just say it?"

And how easy would it have been to have done that? He'd been faced with Brian's reaction. "I didn't say it because I was scared. Because I didn't know what you'd say."

"So what? How the fuck does that change how you feel? What you want?" He hated when people pretended not to want something or lied about what they wanted. He'd done it in the past and it'd never done anything but caused him problems. "Justin—I can't read minds."

"I know."

"And I'm tired of being blamed for it." For not knowing how Justin felt, for not anticipating his needs.

"I just…" So Brian was right, he couldn't read minds, but he could have reacted better to Justin's question. "I guess I wanted you to be excited about it."

"You never gave me a chance to be."

"I asked you, 'What about a commitment ceremony?' and you fell off the couch."

"I was surprised."

"Then why didn't you say that?"

"I did. And then I asked you if you were serious and you said no."

"We've been through this." It was frustrating, neither of them budging at all.

"And we'll go through it again."

"I already know how you feel." That was abundantly clear.

"How?" laughed Brian. "Did you ask me?"

"Brian—"

"Ask."

God, he could make him angry. How much did Brian think he could take? "Don't—"

"Ask." There was no give in his voice.

Suddenly Justin felt shaky. Who knew he'd be so nervous? After all, wasn't this what he wanted? To marry Brian? Justin swallowed and asked, "Brian, would you marry me?" His voice came out so quiet that he had to strain to hear himself.

Brian couldn't resist a bit of play. "I would if you asked me."

Justin smiled, realizing the mistake in his choice of words. Tried again. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes, I'll marry you." No hesitation.

He'd answered too quickly. "Don't tease me."

"I said I would. But if you don't want to…"

"You'll really do it?" His pulse had begun to race. Maybe Brian really meant it. But…

Closing the distance between them, Brian took hold of Justin's hands. They were only a little smaller than his own. That Justin had such large hands comforted him. Let him know that they were big enough to hold his heart, that he and his heart were safe with Justin. So he asked softly yet confidently, "Will you marry me?"

He had dreamt the words a thousand times and never had they sounded as good as they just had. Violins could have been playing, they could have been in a restaurant in Paris in view of the Eiffel Tower and it wouldn't have improved the proposal. Proposal. Brian had proposed. And was waiting for an answer. "Yes."

"Sure?"

Now, Justin laughed. "Yes!" He embraced Brian and lay his head upon his chest. Felt Brian's heart beating strong and steady. "Thank you."

"Anything for my baby."

Alarmed, he asked, "You're not doing this just for me, are you?"

"No," Brian replied, honestly. "I'm selfish. I'm doing it for me."

"Good." Justin raised his head and gazed into Brian's eyes. "I love you."

"Where's my kiss? I haven't forgotten, you know."

Justin drew Brian's head down and kissed him tenderly. "There. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

Pulling Brian down onto the couch next to him, he slung his legs over his partner's lap and leaned against him. "We're getting married," he announced happily. Then, "When?"

"I think we should get the house first," Brian replied, smiling, Justin's happiness infectious.

"But that could take a long time."

"You in a hurry? What's wrong? It's not like you're knocked up."

"Funny." What was the hurry? "I don't know…" he shrugged. He just felt that once they'd made the decision, they should act on it.

"I thought it might be fun to have it in the new house."

"We could do it here," Justin suggested.

"Too small." Now that they'd decided to do it, he wanted to do it right.

"How many guests are we having?" Was Brian thinking about having some grand affair? He'd thought they'd invite their friends over and just do it. But Brian was an advertiser first and a person second. At least it felt like it sometimes.

"I don't know. But we should definitely set a limit and stick to it."

Testing him, Justin declared, "Thirty or less."

"Works for me." That way they'd have to be selective as to the family members they'd invite, which was fine with him. God, if only Claire wouldn't show up but she would, she was a glutton for punishment and never missed any family weddings, regardless of how she felt about the participants. This meant he'd definitely have to arrange a meeting between her and Justin beforehand. The day of the ceremony would not be a good time for their first encounter. And he had no idea how his mom would feel. It was one thing to accept them as they were in private and another to watch them proclaim to the world that they were committed in a public ceremony. There might be limits to her understanding.

"Who should we invite?"

"I was just thinking about that. And guest lists, food."

So he was serious. "Decorations, music. Who's going to be in the wedding party," added Justin. Suddenly it seemed a monumental undertaking.

Seemed that way to Brian too. "Fuck, we'll need all the time we can get to plan this thing."

"We can get your mom to help."

"Hopefully as a wedding present." He didn't bother to tell Justin his fears. Let him be happy.

And he was. "I can't believe we're having a wedding." A big, fancy wedding at that. Daphne would freak. All the women they knew would. Just think, they were the ones having the fairy tale wedding. He laughed joyfully.

"Happy?"

"Ecstatic." Justin kissed Brian and drew away slightly. Waited. He'd learned how to tease, how to whet Brian's appetite.

Having had a taste, Brian decided to try for more. Just at that moment, the phone rang and he groaned. "You know, in the movies, that would be your mom calling to tell us she's found the perfect fucking house. But, in reality, it's probably some annoying person with nothing better to do than to keep us from having incredibly hot sex."

As Justin went to answer it, he chuckled. "Behave." As if ever. He picked up. "Hello?" He paused. "Hi, Mom." A look of disbelief crossed his face. "You did?" He looked over at Brian. "You've just found us the perfect fucking house."

"Genius," boasted Brian.

"Sorry. Yeah. But what's it— Okay. Eleven o'clock. Okay. See you tomorrow. Bye." He hung up.

"So?" If they were living in a movie, so be it. He'd go with it.

"So she's making like a Bond girl. Everything's top secret. We have to pick her up tomorrow at eleven and she'll take us there."

"That's it?"

"Told you. Except she says it's perfect for us."

"I'll believe that when I see it." When Justin didn't return to the sofa, Brian went to him. It was obviously time for bed.

Justin led him up the steps. "Where were we?"

"I think I was trying to knock you up."

"You know my motto: If first you don't succeed, try, try again. And again…" The teen walked on ahead, his hips swaying gently as he crossed the floor and Brian followed their movement with his eyes.

"Fuck, yeah." Later, with Justin perched on top of him, head thrown back and mouth open, about to come, Brian repeated the sentiment breathlessly. "Fuck, yeah…" 

 

"Now, turn here," Jennifer told Justin, as he was driving.

The teen turned right. Glanced at the street sign. "Whitman."

Brian raised a brow. "Could be a good sign." At Justin's groan, "No pun intended."

"You're going to love it," Jenn said for the fiftieth time since they'd picked her up. "There, that's it. The third driveway on the left." The opening was flanked by two lamps. "The one with the trees that look like cypress. They're called Green Giants. Apparently someone recommended them back in the early 90's when no one else was really using them and the owners planted them not knowing what to expect. Now, of course, everyone's planting them. They're all the rage."

Peering ahead, Brian said, "Nice." They couldn't see the house from the road, only a rough stone fence about five feet high and a perimeter of tall evergreen trees that lined the yard just inside the fence and led to the hidden domicile. In Italy, on the train to Florence, gazing at the rolling Tuscan hills that passed by them, dotted with cypress trees, they'd thought that they'd never seen a more beautiful view. So even though the Green Giants weren't cypress trees, they reminded him of them and so the house already had that going for it.

Justin pulled into the driveway and followed its path until they came upon the house. Both he and Brian were hard-pressed not to gasp.

It was as if they'd come upon an Italian villa in the valleys of Chianti. Their eyes automatically scanned the house for details. Walls of rough, unworked stone and red-tiled roofs. A pair of two-story wings set at an angle to one another with a tower at the pivot point or nearly at the pivot point. The peak of the roof seemed to be maybe thirty, thirty-five feet off the ground. There was a detached two-car garage near the wing closest to them.

A low hedge of green shrubs ran along the outside of the nearest wing which was punctuated by six tall, slender, French windows with separated tops on the first floor. A matching number of windows with separated arched tops ran along the second floor completing the illusion of the wing being dominated by vast two-story Palladian windows. There was a stone chimney at the end of the farthest wing and another in the middle of the nearest one. A cobblestone path led from the driveway to the front entry which was gated. Its roof formed the floor of a balcony with a wrought iron railing. Beautiful evergreen trees and additional shrubbery softened the house's façade.

Opening her door and breaking the spell the house had cast on the two men, Jenn said, "Let's go inside."

But the spell hadn't been broken, it had only tightened around them. They followed her as if in a dream. As they passed the tower, they looked over and saw a window in its side on the second floor and another small, grill-covered window on the first floor level near the entry way.

"It belongs to the cousin of a friend of mine. She and her husband are getting a divorce and they're selling the house. They're letting us have a first look-see as a favor to her before it goes on the market. If it goes on the market," she hinted.

The two halves of a wrought-iron fence, delicately filigreed, guarded the arched entrance to the house. The floor was a dark terra cotta tile. On either side of the entrance way beneath an arched opening sat a plain wooden bench. About five feet from the gate, offering entrance into the house, was a double door of oak studded with black iron nails. On each of the doors was a heavy round knocker. Jenn turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, shut off the alarm.

It felt as if someone had shouted "Open sesame!" and they were about to enter Ali Baba's cave. The exterior had promised riches beyond imagination. Solemnly, Brian gestured for Justin to go on ahead. The teen stepped across the threshold and paused, looked back at Brian who came in behind him and stopped as well.

As beautiful as the outside was, the inside was magnificent.

"It’s the reception hall," Jenn said behind them and when they both started, she explained, "That's what it's called."

They grinned sheepishly and looked around. The hall was stunning. Creamy colored stone tiled floor with a border of blue tiles forming an aisle down the middle; walls of Italian plaster in delicate, swirling shades of amber; and exposed beams in the ceiling. The space ran the depth of the house. They walked towards the back, forcing themselves to ignore the temptation of open arched doorways. At the end of the hall was a set of French doors with a window in the shape of a semicircle overhead. Brian slide the doors open, the two halves recessing into the wall, and Justin did gasp this time. It was a sunroom, an attached octagon, with alternating windows and doors set in all seven walls. It had a vaulted ceiling that rose to a point high above the floor. You could actually see part of the ceiling through the window from the reception hall. The whole room was flooded with light. The floor was covered in rose terra cotta with a matching multicolored stone border than ran around the sunroom's perimeter and medallions placed randomly among the rose terra cotta flooring.

"The floor is heated so you won't get cold out here in the winter. So are the floors in the upstairs bathrooms," Jennifer added for Brian's sake alone because Justin was lost.

"It's perfect," he sighed. Going to the door on the left, he looked out at the loggia that ran along the back of the house to that side of the sunroom. Going to the opposing door, he scanned the pergola that ran along the back of the house to the right. Standing at the door opposite the entry from the house, he gazed at the lap pool which dominated the backyard. Tearing himself away from a vision in which he sat at his drawing board, the afternoon sun streaming in through the glass to light his work, Justin asked reluctantly yet excitedly, "Can we see the rest?"

Going back into the reception hall, they went through a broad arch way on the right into a vast room with a marble fireplace opposite the arch. As with the walls in the reception hall, the ones in the livingroom were covered with Italian plaster, this time with a slight ochre cast. They would discover that all of the walls in the house were either of Italian plaster or painted to resemble it. On either side of the fireplace a single French door with a quarter moon arched window over each opened into a walled courtyard. A set of stone steps led to the second floor. "It goes to the Master suite," Jenn explained. Two sets of double French doors topped by arched windows, each flanked by attached plain French windows, opened onto the loggia. The room was divided vertically by three arches, a large arch with two smaller ones on either side. "The dining room is in there," said Jenn. "But really, the entire room can be used as one huge space." A trio of Palladian windows, one large, two small, dominated the front wall complimenting both the openings between the living room and dining room and the faux Palladian windows in the other wing.

Exiting through an arch way leading from the dining area, they passed by the front door again, this time noticing the cloakroom on either side. And then they saw the stairwell inside the tower, its seductive curve beckoning them to climb and explore the rooms above.

"Do you want to go up now or see the rest of this floor first?"

Justin turned to Brian to let the older man decide. "Let's do this floor and then come back and go upstairs."

So Jennifer lead them towards the back of the house and to the right into a foyer. Its floor was tiled the same as the reception hall minus the border. Instead a dark blue, gold, and orange mosaic sun radiated from middle of the space. In the center of the sun stood a fountain. A simple fountain, just a basin set on a low pedestal in the middle of a pool but the entire piece was made of a dark red stone.

"Like in the Vatican!" Justin exclaimed.

"Probably not the same kind of stone," said Brian, "but it's beautiful."

To the right of the fountain was the beginning of a hallway but they chose to go into the family room first. There was a bar area just to the left of the doorway and a massive fieldstone fireplace about twenty feet in that divided the family room from the kitchen. Neither one of them could believe that the couple who was selling the place had left the glass-doored wine and beverage center in the bar. The top section looked as if it could hold about ten soda cans and the bottom section was designed for wine bottles. The bar itself was made of the same fieldstone as the fireplace and had a tiled top.

Brian wandered past it to look out at the yard. At first glance, the window and door arrangement seemed identical to that in the livingroom but then Brian realized that there were subtle differences. There were three sets of double French doors instead of two and windows with floating arches between them.

"This place must be a bitch to heat," Brian commented, especially since rooms flowed into one another without any doors to keep heat in any one section.

"Actually, that helps," she said pointing to the see-through hearth which had an arched glass door and a built-in wood storage section and bench. "It's some kind of masonry fireplace. I don't understand all of the specifics but it's supposed to generate more heat than a traditional gas or wood burning fireplace. I've got all the information about it if you want to see how it works. And since the hearth is see-through, you'll be able to see the fire on the kitchen side as well. Plus there's a bake oven on that side."

"We could make our own wood-fired pizzas," said Justin, visions of exotic ones to rival California Pizza Kitchen dancing in his head.

Although he didn't think anything could compare to the solarium, Justin was duly impressed by the kitchen. It had plenty of cabinet and countertop space, using a combination of framed cabinets and freestanding units. The cabinets were made of a warm, dark golden wood; and there was a two-tiered blue-stained wooden island in the middle of the room with a prep sink in it. The higher section was for eating at the island and for hiding the prep area on the lower level. A wooden and iron pot rack hung above it. All the cabinet countertops were made of some bluish stone. Justin ran his hand over it. Felt cool to the touch.

"That's blue imperial granite," explained Jennifer. She pointed to the exposed sink with a deep blue porcelain bowl. "Farmer's sink. The cabinets are custom-made of amber maple with navy blue colored glass inserts in the doors which match the multicolored Indian slate floor tiles." The cabinets and granite countertops coordinated perfectly with the floor which was comprised of rough textured tiles made of rust, beige, and bluish grey slate. "The island has a warming drawer," she pulled it out, "that comes with wire dividers and liner pans." She indicated the spaces in the island along the sides. "For your cookbooks." Gestured at the color-washed walls and at the dark blue tiled border that ran around the room three inches above the countertops, "The border compliments the backsplash behind the stove."

Justin's mouth fell open. "Is that an Aga?"

"Two ovens. One for roasting and baking and the other for simmering. Two hotplates, one fast, one slow."

"I've always wanted an Aga stove." The dark blue range occupied a corner niche and was sheltered by an old fashioned European-style hood (which mimicked a stucco covered chimney that was not there) with a blue and sienna tiled backsplash. The stove coordinated perfectly with the tiles and the glass-fronted cabinet doors.

In addition to the Aga, there was a Wolf cooktop at the opposite end of the countertop in the corner closest to the refrigerator. It had four burners and a grill in the middle. It occupied an alcove formed by an stone-lined arch. The backsplash behind it was made of the same tiles as the one behind the Aga.

Next to the Aga stove, between two small windows, was a freestanding dark blue baking center with spaces and shelves for pans and spices and other baking supplies. And beside it was a piece of built-in furniture that looked like a hutch.

"What's this?"

"They call it a la mattina. It's a place where you can put a microwave, coffee maker, juicer, things that you use to make breakfast.

"Oh, I get it, la mattina. That's cool."

Jenn pulled out one of the large drawers. "These are actually undercounter refrigerator drawers."

"How do you know so much about this place?"

She held up the pad she'd been carrying around. "Cheat notes."

Justin went through the entire kitchen opening each and every door and drawer. There were solid wood insets to hold spices at an angle inside of a drawer near the stove. Wire basket pullouts beneath the kitchen sink which held cleaning supplies, even a utility tray built into the cabinet next to the sink. Just a slender flip-down drawer with a plastic tray inside to hold sponges and scouring pads.

"What are these for?" he asked his mom of two deep glass-fronted drawers in the island.

"Dry goods. Beans, rice, that kind of thing."

"Oh."

One cabinet contained three shelves that made complete revolutions inside of it. There were cabinets with roll-out trays that were two feet deep. On one side of the sink, he opened a cabinet door to find two slide-out wire mounts for garbage cans.

Jennifer showed him the stem glass holder mounted to the bottom of the dishes storage rack. "There's room in this kitchen for everything."

"Yeah, especially since we don’t have that much stuff," he said. It was amazing.

Brian watched Justin walk around the room checking everything out and knew his partner was in heaven. Coupled with the studio, the kitchen had definitely sold the teen on the house. He only wished he had an inkling of what this place cost. He could imagine it didn't come cheap.

There were two sets of multi-storage pantry cabinets placed side-by-side (forming a divider between the kitchen and the family room) that contained swing-out storage racks with adjustable shelves. One was obviously meant for small canned goods and the other for larger boxes. Who ate that much food? Brian grinned to himself. Justin did.

As they headed out of the kitchen towards the back door and the stairs, they passed a built-in supply cabinet that framed the end of the refrigerator/freezer, which would hold mops and brooms and other cleaning accoutrements. Adjacent to it and behind the refrigerator/freezer and the cabinets was a powder room. It was nice, with a blue glass basin floating above a stone countertop that matched the kitchen counters, a wall-width mirror, and a toilet. But there was room for a chair and a small table which Justin thought would make it all the nicer.

Brian joked, "Don't want to make it too nice. People might go in and never want to come out."

Jen pointed to the stairs. "It goes down into the basement and up to the second floor. Comes out by the guest room." There were niches cut into the wall leading up the stairwell where sculptures and vases might go. "And this," she said pointing down the hallway, "is the gallery."

They fell silent as they traversed the long corridor, looking out of the six French windows they'd seen from the outside. The floor was covered in blue and burgundy mosaic tiles in an interlocking circle pattern. The entire area was, Brian decided, a completely useless feature and yet he couldn't have imagined the house without it. Justin had visions of artwork hanging on the walls, their very own art gallery right in the house. Not that there wasn't enough room in the reception hall but there was something so right about this space. It reminded him of being in the National Gallery in London.

At last they were coming around to the tower again. They paused and peeked through the grill-covered interior window at the gently curving staircase. Unable to wait any longer, the two men rushed past the fountain and around to the entrance to the tower. They walked through the arched opening and into the tower proper, amazed by the light that the three windows let in, turning what could have been a dark space into a beautifully lit one. The stair was comprised of stone with an iron banister that managed to look delicate yet sturdy at the same time. The front edges and undersides of the steps were decorated with tiny multicolored tiles in an Arabesque pattern. The colors recalled the backsplash in the kitchen. Slowly they climbed the stairs, wanting to savor each step, each moment.

About halfway up, Brian and Justin stopped and looked out of the window they'd seen from the outside. The view of the front yard with its manicured lawn and clipped hedges was superb.

Jenn paused at the top of the stairs. "Left or right?"

"You choose, Mom."

"Then I choose the master suite first." She halted though to show them the open space directly adjacent to the tower. "This is the library and out there," she pointed towards an open area opposite them, "is the sitting room." The library had rows of built-in shelves in the walls on either side of a simple French door which led out to the second-floor balcony they'd seen from outside. The two partners went out onto it, a cool winter breeze stirring their hair.

Justin laughed. "I feel like Juliet standing up here."

Quickly, Brian kissed him and said, "I liked Mercutio better."

Smiling, Justin replied, "So did Romeo."

After they returned inside, Jennifer took them into the master suite. "Voila. To your left, a study for Brian," and she opened up the French doors for them to see inside. It was a wide space and not very deep but there was more than enough room for a desk and two chairs and Brian's Le Corbusier chaise lounge. Which made it perfect for him. "To your right," she said as they went back out, "a walk-in closet. The Paradisio model from California Closets." It was roughly the same size as Brian's study. "There's a doorway on this side and one from the bath." They walked inside. "Cherry veneer," exlained Jenn.

"For once, there might be enough room for my clothes," Justin teased. "Notice how the room is equally divided?" he hinted.

"Uh-huh," replied Brian who was already mentally arranging his things. This was his kind of space: long poles on which to hang his suits and dress shirts, shelves for sweaters, casual shirts, tee-shirts, and jeans, drawers for his underwear, and slots for his many pairs of shoes as well as storage space for his suitcases. There was even room to put a bench in the middle of the floor to sit on while he dressed. Heaven.

Justin tugged on his arm. "Come on, let's see the rest."

As they continued into the master suite, Jenn indicated the fireplace on the left side. "It's gas," she said, explaining the absence of a stone chimney on that side of the house. "There's a metal flue, hardly noticeable." There was a door in the adjacent wall nearer to the back of the house that led to the steps they'd seen from the livingroom. "So you can go downstairs to the courtyard without having to go all the way down the tower stairs." Three arched windows alternated with two pairs of French doors in the wall at the back of the house which led to the second-floor loggia. "There's no loggia on the other wing," for which they sighed in relief. They each had visions of Gus walking out onto the loggia in the middle of the night and falling over the edge. As is they'd have to make sure the library door was locked securely at all times.

The windows and doors of the room flooded the space with light which was reflected off the sand-colored ceramic tile floors.

"I'm never going to be able to sleep in on the weekends," Brian groaned.

"Poor baby," Justin said. "We'll put up blinds. And curtains around the bed. Okay?"

The bathroom extended out so that its outside wall actually incorporated the arches of the loggia. They felt like they were in a Roman bath. Obviously a designer had taken great pains to put together the bathroom and it was a great bathroom, with a built-in tub and his and her sinks in a huge vanity, but it wasn't to either of their taste. At least not to Brian's taste. It was too busy, too feminine. He planned on tearing out everything and starting over beginning with replacing the sunken tub with his freestanding Philippe Starck edition two. Right by the window. He could hardly wait. The one thing he did like was how the flooring in the bedroom coordinated with that in the bathroom. The bedroom floor was comprised of light-colored stone tiles laid out in regular rows except for five areas of the room where groups of smaller tiles were arranged in a diamond shape bordered by slender tiles inset with a wavy pattern formed by gold and dark terracotta-colored stones. The colors of the inset stones were picked up again in the bathroom's slate floor.

Going back out into the sitting room area through a door in the bathroom, Brian examined the space. "Maybe we could put up a wall, make this a home gym. I don't think we really need a sitting room."

The first bedroom in the other wing, which would be Gus' room, was large and could hold all of his various and sundry toys and accoutrements. Also, it had a small walk-in closet with shoe cubby holes, a chest of drawers, and clothing shelves as well as poles and places to put linens. This was a bedroom to grow in and, if needed, they could put twin beds in here and use the extra bed for company. Or another child, if they had one. Gus' room shared a bathroom with the guestroom. Shiny blue tile on the floor, white tile wall with a blue and white mosaic border. There was a round corner shower stall with a multihued blue tiled wall and acrylic doors; and even a freestanding tub. They needed to buy some storage units for the room but otherwise it would do. Luckily, it was in good shape and Gus wasn't picky. They passed through the door to the guest room. It was smaller than Gus' but there was space for two full beds and a couple of nightstands, a small table maybe and a couple of chairs. Plus there was a large reach-in closet with a closet system already installed.

Between the rooms, behind the closets and off the hallway, was a laundry area behind a set of sliding doors with enough room for a supply cabinet/folding surface and a full-sized washer and dryer. There was even a pull-out ironing board that Justin most definitely didn't plan on using as he wore wash and wear and Brian sent out most of his clothes to be dry-cleaned. Of course, that might have to change if they bought this place. In any case, he loved the fact that the laundry was on the second floor, which meant he didn't have to lug any laundry baskets down to the basement like in his mom's townhouse and Debbie's place.

Exiting, they took the back stairs down to the first floor and went out of the side door. Walked around to the pergola with its rough-wood poles; vines had grown upon it, crisscrossing the open-work bamboo roof. At the top of the spaces between the columns hung rolled-up canvas coverings which could be lowered to block the light.

"You don’t have to worry about leaving them out here, they're manufactured to withstand the weather," explained Jennifer.

They walked around to the other side of the studio and through the loggia, around to the courtyard to examine it more closely. An arched doorway led from the loggia to the courtyard area. In one corner, stood a fountain which would bubble when spring came; there was a stone barbecue pit in the other. Spreading from their respective positions next to the steps to the second floor and the front wall, two wisteria plants provided coverage for the courtyard, their vines entwined in a rustic arbor. Already Justin could imagine them having intimate dinners out there, paper lanterns hung from the arbor, illuminating the wisteria, their purple blossoms beautiful on spring nights. They went back towards the loggia to check out the rest of the yard.

The pool was gorgeous. Long and slender with variegated blue tiles along the bottom and sides, it reigned the landscape. Brick red terra cotta stones in a hexagonal shape extended from the pergola and loggia down to the edge of the pool forming a wonderful open patio area.

"And it's only five feet deep," Jenn warned, "so no diving."

Justin was abuzz with plans. "We can put chairs and tables out here and have parties… We could have Gus' birthday party out here. And yours." He smiled, envisioning it all. They wandered down to the other end of the yard and stood looking back at the house.

Brian nodded towards a tree on the left of them, having gotten caught up in Justin's excitement. "We could build Gus a tree house up there."

"I never had a tree house," Justin said.

"Me neither."

"Think it'd be big enough to…?" hinted Justin.

"We'll make sure of it."

Jennifer walked over interrupting their planning session. "Do you want to see the basement?"

"Do we have to?" asked Brian.

"You probably should," she told them, so dutifully they followed her back to the house, stopping to peek into the window of the garage. Plenty of space in there for the Jeep and Justin's Cherokee plus there were storage cabinets for automotive products, garden tools, snow shovels, sports equipment, and anything else they wanted to put out here. Re-entering the house, they went on a tour of the basement which housed the furnace, the wine cellar, the hot water heater, and workings that had to do with the masonry fireplace and the fountain.

"I never imagined having a wine cellar," Justin said quietly.

"Should have maybe picked up a few more bottles of wine in Europe," said Brian.

Taking them back to the reception hall, Jenn waited for Brian to ask the inevitable.

He glanced around at the hall, at the openings for the other rooms, thinking about the rooms upstairs and the massive furnace downstairs. "It'll cost a fortune just to heat and cool."

"Mom said that the fireplace in the family room helped and we could always close the vents in the rooms we're not using. Or turn the heat down low and snuggle. And in the summer, we can open the windows and doors," Justin suggested, anxious to dispel any negative thoughts about the house. He'd fallen in love with it and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. From the red roofs to the tiled floors, he loved it. Most of all he loved the glass conservatory and its view of the pool and the backyard. _I could be happy here,_ he thought.

Brian watched the expression flitter across his face, read it correctly. Sighed inwardly. "So, how much are they asking for it?"

She paused. "Maybe you should sit down first," but there were no chairs available. The entire house was empty of furniture. Instead she moved closer to him and whispered in his ear.

Justin watched Brian's face. His eyes grew larger than normal. "Dollars?" he asked. Jenn nodded. Brian rubbed his face. "American dollars?" She nodded again and Justin just about screamed.

How much? he wanted to ask. But Brian turned to him with a question of his own.

"So how rich and famous are you going to be?"

"Very," Justin reassured him.

"Good because for what they're asking, we'll be paying for this place until we die and then Gus will take over and if his kids are lucky, they'll finish paying for it in their lifetime." _Christ! It's a house!_ he wanted to yell. _Not a small country._

Although it nearly killed him, Justin said quietly, "We could look at some smaller places. That don't cost as much. We don't need all this room. We could do that, couldn't we, Mom?"

"No, we couldn’t," replied Brian. "Because this place is perfect."

"I wish I could help out," Justin told him.

"Don't worry. You'll be paying for it long after I'm dead."

"Don't say that," Justin scolded. He didn't want to even think about Brian dying.

Jenn waited patiently. "What do you think?" she said after a few moments.

"How much negotiating room do we have?"

"A little. The divorce hasn't been pretty and they're anxious to unload the house. But they know what it's worth." She watched him for a reaction. "So?"

"You and I should meet tomorrow to write up an offer."

"And the earnest money deposit…? We should, at least, offer them one percent of the offering price," she suggested, the earnest money being a good faith deposit to convince the sellers that the buyers were serious about purchasing the house.

He scratched the back of his neck. "I'll have it." There went the savings until they sold the loft.

"Brian…" began Justin, sensing that there was some problem.

"It's all right. Really. I love it." He pecked Justin on the cheek. "And I love you."

Trusting that Brian would tell him if there was a problem and assured now that he'd said there wasn't, Justin began making plans again. "We can have the ceremony right here."

"What ceremony?" asked Jenn.

"Oh," said Justin casually, "our commitment ceremony. I forgot to tell you, we're getting married."

"Justin Taylor!" Jennifer hugged him. "You forgot?"

"I was excited about the house."

"This would be the perfect place to hold a wedding," she said, already imagining the hall decorated and the guests seated and waiting for the processional to begin. A wide smile crossed her face.

"Uh-oh," said Brian, "her gerbil's off and running."

"Then she won't notice if I…" started Justin and he kissed Brian for a long moment. When they parted, he said, "I wish we had a bed."

"We do," Brian reminded him. "At home. Although it won't be home for much longer."

"You okay with that?"

He shrugged. "We knew we'd have to move eventually."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yeah, I'm okay with it. Now I just have to sell the loft so we can afford this place."

Jennifer came out of her daydream. "I've already got a couple of perspective buyers."

" It's not even on the market yet."

"Neither is this place. I've been quietly letting people know about it. Trust me, you won't have any trouble selling it."

"And getting a decent price for it?"

"Very decent. I'll make a couple of calls tomorrow, arrange some showings." She bounced a little. "I'm so excited for you two."

"You're excited about your commission," Brian said wryly but he smiled and Jennifer risked a tiny kiss on his cheek.

"Welcome to the family." She gasped. "Oh, wait until I tell your grandmother, Justin. She won't believe it," she said, heading for the front door.

Brian and Justin followed holding hands. They took a last long look at the reception hall and smiled.

"It's like being in Italy again," said Justin. "It really is the perfect house for us, isn't it?"

"It is." Waiting for Justin to go out, Brian pulled the door closed and Jennifer locked it again. Soon they'd have keys to the house, to their new house. Their new home. 

 

Brian could tell by the way Justin was driving that his mind wasn't on the task at hand but was probably busily decorating their new house in his head. For his part, he was working out the finances. The bank had already pre-approved his loan on the basis of his credit history and his percentage ownership in the company so getting the money up front wasn't a problem. The problem was paying the mortgage each month and actually having money to live on afterwards. They could do it easily, if they cut back on extraneous expenses. Namely, expensive clothes, expensive dinners, and expensive trips. At least until a few more big bonuses rolled their way. They'd been looking forward to returning to Europe this summer. That was out now. They'd be spending the summer at home. Which might not be so bad. Gus could spend some time with them, maybe stay a couple of weeks and he could take off from work and putter around the house.

He grimaced and looked quickly out of the window so Justin wouldn’t notice. Putter around the house? Jesus, he was turning into a responsible adult. How'd that happen? How'd he end up being a father and a husband? His words to Mikey came back to him, _"Guess I didn't run fast enough. He caught me._ " And so did Mikey's to him, _"You let him. I know how much you love him."_ Brian glanced over at the teen—soon to be twenty and not a teen anymore—and smiled. He did love him.

Justin turned and smiled when he noticed Brian was looking at him. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just thinking about moving."

They fell silent and didn't discuss the house or the move anymore until they'd gotten home and were trying to rummage up something to eat.

Brian sat at the bar waiting to chop or peel or do whatever Justin needed as he prepared lunch. "Unfortunately, we won't be in the new house by your birthday."

"I don't think I want a party this year. Be nice to celebrate in private, just the two of us."

"Be twenty years old. Big deal. You sure?"

"We can curl up in bed… Have some cake, like on my eighteenth birthday," Justin suggested.

"I'm sold."

That decided, Justin turned to another subject. "I guess we can keep this furniture after all. It'll look okay in the new place."

"Nope. We're selling it with the loft."

Justin looked surprised. "Really?"

"Really. Except for the chaise lounge and my painting. Those can go in the study. But the rest of this stuff, it doesn't really fit," he decided, despite what Justin had said. "So," he announced, envisioning the money it'd take, "we need to get new furniture."

Justin grinned. "Bed first."

"Why don't you and Joanie take care of that."

"What about you?"

"I trust your taste."

"But I thought we could do it together."

Refraining from sighing, Brian counted to ten inwardly and tried to keep his voice even as he replied, "I have to work."

"We can go looking after work."

"Justin—"

"Your mom and I can come up with some options and then you and I can decide what we want. Okay?"

He agreed. "Okay." Then thought, "I'll get Cynthia to help too. And we might need to work with a decorator."

"We've got your mom."

"Yeah, but she doesn't have a license. Some showrooms and manufacturers only deal with the trade. Which means you gotta have a license."

"Then we won't get any stuff from them."

"I want my Philippe Starck tub." It was the only thing he'd been adamant about.

"We'll find a dealer who'll work with regular people and you'll get your tub. And, if you're good, you'll get a toilet too. Maybe even a bidet."

"What the fuck is up with bidets?"

"I really don't want to think about anal cleanliness while I'm cooking."

Brian laughed and waited for Justin to hand him the red peppers after he'd roasted them.

"I can't believe we're moving."

"If they accept our offer."

"We're meeting their price, aren't we?"

"Yep. But they may decide they don’t want to sell to fags." He turned to chopping the peppers.

"I don't think my mom would have dealt with them if they had a problem. And I'm sure she told them about us."

"Maybe." Despite his experiences with Hobbs, Justin remained cautiously optimistic about the world and it's reaction to them. Brian had no illusions. He'd had his eyes opened way too many times.

Later, over lunch, Justin brought up the wedding. "We have to start thinking about decorations and what our colors are going to be and—"

"Can't you and Joanie deal with that too?"

"Joanie and I aren't getting married. You and I are."

Hearing the warning in his voice, Brian decided he'd diffuse that fight before it got started. "Which is a good thing cause I think Joanie might be too much for you."

Not falling for it at all, Justin nevertheless replied, "Ha ha. I mean it, I want you to help. That means you, not Cynthia."

Rolling his eyes, Brian said, "Fine."

"We need a theme."

"We need to talk to Joanie. She's got the wedding books." From when she decorated the loft for her portfolio pictures.

Justin finished his pasta. "We can go online. Look at the wedding sites." Drank the last of his wine. "Today."

Looking wistfully at his empty plate, Brian drained his glass as well. "Yippee."

The dishwasher cycle started, Justin sat at Brian's computer with the ad exec next to him and went to Google. Typed in "commitment ceremonies" and got some hits. Brian's eyes and mind wandered as Justin clicked through to a few sites and bookmarked some in a folder he named "Commitment Ceremony".

"What about invitations?"

Coming out of his self-induced trance, Brian asked, "What about them?"

"Should we send out invitations?"

"How else would they know when and where to show up?"

Elbowing Brian, Justin said, "We could just call them. Or have Cynthia call them."

"I’m not a traditional kind of guy," Brian admitted, "but even I think you should send out invitations."

"Fine. What kind?"

"What?"

"What kind? They've got all these different kinds," Justin pointed out, moving the cursor over the different designs. "What kind do we want?"

Despite himself, Brian asked, "Shouldn't it go with our theme?"

"We don't have a theme," said Justin.

"Then maybe we should get one first and then work from there," Brian suggested quite reasonably.

"Okay," challenged Justin, "what?"

Brian fell silent.

"What would you like our theme to be?" asked Justin.

"I guess that depends on when we have it. Pull up the calendar." Justin did and went forward to February. They both stared at it. Finally, Brian said, "Not on Valentine's Day."

"Brian—"

"People have to work."

Admitting that was true, Justin asked, "What about the fifteenth? In the early evening?"

Brian calculated the time. "If we move into the house the first weekend in February, we just might be ready for guests by the fifteenth." Thought about it. "Okay, the fifteenth it is."

"February fifteenth," Justin said contently. "So what goes with that?"

"I'm not too fond of bright red decorations," Brian told him. "Especially big, red hearts."

"Well, it's still the winter so we could do something with winter. Let's see what the wedding sites say." So he did a search for winter weddings and pulled up some sites. Scanned the pages. His eyes lit up. "What about a Winter Wonderland? We could have fake snow and snowflakes and icicles and stuff. Lighted trees. Hey!" He grabbed Brian's arm. "We could string lights from the rafters to look like the night sky. Just like you did in the loft that time. It'll be so beautiful." Opened a Word document and started jotting things down. "Candles, snowflakes, fake snow, icicles, lights in trees…"

Slipping away Brian left him at the computer writing things down and picked up a pad of paper and started making notes about selling the loft and moving. If Justin needed him, he'd call.

"What do you think about silver and dark blue?"

"As what?" he asked although he knew.

"Our wedding colors."

"As long as it's dark blue and not baby blue."

Justin turned back to his document and began making more notations and Brian was left alone to make notes again. For a while.

"Brian?"

Without looking around, he answered, "Hmm?"

"What's our budget for the wedding?"

"We don’t have one. Just don't go crazy. You know we're paying a lot for the house."

"No," said Justin softly, "I don't know. You never said." When Brian looked around, he glanced away.

Coming back to him, Brian sat next to him again. "I'm sorry, Baby. I just—I guess I wasn't thinking."

"So how much is it?"

"A little over three quarters of a million." He'd gotten used to saying it to himself so he had no trouble saying it now despite his initial reaction.

"Dollars?" Justin asked in a choked voice much as Brian had when Jennifer had told him.

"Yeah."

"Brian… that's too much." Justin couldn't even conceive of paying that much for a house.

"Not for that house and the property. It's a great investment."

"But seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars?"

"Eight hundred and fifty thousand, actually."

Justin turned from the computer. "We don't need to have a fancy wedding then. We'll just have some people over, have some food, and call it a night."

"No, we're not," said Brian. "We're having a fabulous wedding. And no one's ever going to forget it. Especially us." He gripped Justin's forearm. "Fuck, we're gonna be paying for that house forever so we might as well do what we want. Who knows? Maybe you'll become famous right away and sell a painting for a million dollars and we can pay it off before we're senior citizens."

Still worried, Justin asked, "Can we afford to decorate it?"

"Can't live in it without furniture."

"We can find inexpensive stuff."

"Cheap furniture? In that house? It'd be like decorating Buckingham Palace with plastic crap from the Big Q. We'll take it slow. Only do the rooms we have to right now."

"The master suite, Gus' room and bathroom, the family room and kitchen, and your study."

"And your studio."

"I don't need anything but a drawing table and a stool."

"See?" asked Brian. "We can work it out. So, what kind of invitations are we going to send out?"

Knowing what Brian was trying to do and wanting to please him, Justin said, "I want something with snowflakes."

"Think we'll find anything?"

"I haven't seen any."

"Tell you what. Why don't you whip up something on the computer and we'll get them custom printed."

Justin's mouth opened and he sat there in a daze for a moment. "That's it," he said finally.

"What's it?"

"There are some people doing tables and one of a kind chairs and stuff and they'd love to sell it, get some exposure, and we'd have some cool furniture."

Thinking that would work when it came to occasional tables and chairs, Brian agreed. "Sounds like a plan." You never knew how empty a house could look until you only had the bare necessities in it and then you'd find all this bare space that needed to be filled. He'd gone through that with the loft and had fought the urge to buy extraneous stuff to fill it. He had a feeling they'd succumb to that urge with the house.

Justin slipped over onto Brian's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck and pecked him on the lips. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For the house and the ceremony and everything."

"We're doing this together. You don't have to thank me for anything. Thank your mom, she found the house."

"Brian, no one would give me a loan to buy a million dollar home."

"You wouldn’t need one if it weren't for me. Without me, you'd be just another struggling art student content to live with his mommy." He grinned and Justin nudged him with his forehead. "Besides, the firm will look good when we entertain guests there." He smiled thinking about the magnificent reception hall with its weathered wooden beams in the ceiling, the beautiful tiled floor, the set of French doors leading to Justin's studio.

Giving Brian another peck on the lips, Justin settled in for a longer kiss and when he parted from his lover, his eyes were glittering. Saying nothing, he stood and pulled off his sweater to reveal a chest that still seemed boyish despite his upcoming twentieth birthday. His nipple ring flashed in the sunlight.

Lips parted, Brian asked, "Are you propositioning me?"

"Seducing."

"Ah…"

Justin sat straddling Brian's lap and embraced him again as they kissed, his hands eventually finding their way from his shoulders to his neck to his hair until Justin was gripping the back of his head and holding him close as he gnawed on Brian's lips. God, he loved Brian's lips, so perfectly shaped… and the way they'd swell when he was aroused, Justin couldn't get enough. He gently bit down on the bottom lip and heard Brian cry out, felt his cock throb in response. He wanted to come out of the rest of his clothes but he didn't want to stop this, to stop kissing Brian.

As if Brian were privy to his thoughts, the man unzipped the teenager's jeans and eased them open, slid his hands down inside the back of his briefs and cupped his ass. Justin rose, still fixed on Brian's mouth, and let Brian work the jeans down around his legs. When they'd fallen to his ankles, he stepped out of them and resumed his position on Brian's lap, his cock stiffening inside his cotton briefs. Half-standing, he rubbed himself against his lover's covered belly. Brian slipped his hands back inside Justin's Calvin Klein's and stroked his ass as his little boy worked his erection against him.

Finally, Brian pulled them down in front, releasing Justin's cock. The thick head looked hungry. Brian rubbed his thumb over the tip as Justin thrust his tongue into his mouth. His fingers moved down the shaft and gently rolled the teen's balls but Justin grunted, complaining, and he had to use both hands, one to play with his balls and the other to give his cockhead the required attention.

It felt good, what Brian was doing to his cock but he wanted to be sucked. Breaking their kiss, he stood and reached for the desk behind him, held onto it and presented his cock to be serviced.

After taking off his own sweater and then pulling Justin's underwear all the way down, Brian took a moment to gaze at his little boy in all his hard glory. Moving closer, he licked the underside of his cockhead. Just a quick lick. And again. This time a little slower. And again. Even more slowly until finally he was barely moving his tongue. Justin took in a deep breath and exhaled as Brian made a leisurely circuit of the underside of his cockhead, fighting the urge to thrust.

Brian withdrew his tongue and kissed Justin's cock on the tip. Then made his way all around the bulbous head until he'd left his lip print on every inch and Justin was seeping. Taking hold of Justin's balls, Brian guided him into his mouth. Slowly, as he wanted to taste his juice, his honey, dripping from his honey bear, his Pooh. He took him all the way in and then backed off again so that the head lay on his tongue. Closed his lips about just the head and sucked him. Clear honey oozed out and he lapped it up. He wanted more.

Sighing as Brian decided to suck him in earnest, Justin relaxed and enjoyed the blow job Brian gave him. No one sucked dick like Brian. No one fucked like Brian. All of those encounters hadn't been for nothing. He was the best, even if Justin hadn't been with very many people outside of Brian. He knew instinctively that Brian couldn't be beat. Not when it came to pleasing a man. He hissed and reached for Brian's head as it got good, as he felt himself tumbling towards orgasm. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm down and make it last.

He knew how hard Justin was fighting not to come and it made him feel proud that he did that to Justin, that he knew how to drive his little boy wild, that he could make him scream and lose control. Brian wanted to fuck him but he wanted to give his cock a good working over first. If he could keep his own cock from asserting its demands. Feeling constricted, he rose up enough to slide his jeans down, still sucking Justin's dick, not wanting to release the teen's thick meat. His cock felt much better now that it was free to stretch as it wanted. It bounced between his thighs and reached for his belly. He took it in hand and gave it a few strokes. Sighed around Justin's shaft.

"Brian," whispered Justin, stomach fluttering. "Oh…" He was so hard, so ready to come and Brian wouldn't let him, wouldn't take him that extra step. The man kept his fingers pressed firmly against the base of his cock, not allowing his balls to empty their load while he sucked him hard.

Letting Justin's dick slip from his lips, shiny with spit and precum, Brian ran his mouth along the shaft, then began licking the teen's balls. Taking them into his mouth and sucking them, Justin's dick rubbing against his face as he feasted on his sac.

Easing Brian off his balls, Justin turned and bent over, his ass positioned in front of Brian's face. Invitation accepted, Brian parted the teen's cheeks and lapped his hole. The edges drew in, then relaxed with each motion of his tongue. He kissed Justin's cheeks, making his way towards his anus where he pressed over and over with the tip of his tongue until Justin opened up for him, moaning. Brian pushed his tongue inside and began moving his head back and forth, fucking his little boy, saliva running down his chin and down over Justin's balls. Pulling out, he nipped the edges of his hole and heard Justin cry out. Licked and kissed and gnawed on his asshole until those same edges were pink and puffy. Placing his fingers on either side of his anus, Brian pressed down until his hole popped open and he tongued him again.

Justin's dick felt like it was going to explode. If Brian didn't fuck him soon, he was gonna come. He wanted to come so badly his cock ached. But if Brian did mount him, he didn't know if he'd be able to keep from coming, he was so close. Squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured, "Brian."

Leaving off his tonguing, Brian kissed Justin's ass and asked, "Close?"

"Too close."

"You wanna wait?"

"Yeah."

So Brian sat back in the chair and waited. When he could breathe once more, Justin turned and straddled his lap as before. "Ready?"

Justin nodded and fixed his mouth on Brian's, kissing him deeply. He could feel Brian's cock sliding between his thighs and beneath his balls, the man's hands on his ass, feeling him up. Then one hand left his cheek and he half-rose, knowing that Brian was getting in position. He lowered himself onto Brian's cock and grunted, groaning at the end of the descent, his lover filling him completely. Tightening around Brian, he buried his face in his neck, fingers trailing over his throat to feel Brian's Adam Apple bob as he swallowed.

"Justin…?"

"Fuck me," he whispered and kissed his way up Brian's throat to his lips. "Fuck me," he breathed into his mouth and began rising up and falling down upon Brian's cock, the muscles in his thighs and legs hard as he supported himself on the balls of his feet. "Unh, unh… Oh!" he gasped as he rode Brian's erection. "Brian, Brian, Brian…" he muttered, the feelings so intense, so overwhelming that he couldn't think of anything else.

"I love you, Baby," Brian told him, knowing that's all he wanted to hear, all he needed to know, as they fucked. "I love… you."

"Oh! Oh!" Justin tightened his grip on Brian's shoulders and back and jerked against him. Brian's stomach muscles rubbed all along the length of his cock. He shook all over. "I—I—"

"Come on," Brian whispered. "Come on, Baby. Shoot. Come on," he coaxed and Justin cried out and thrust hard against his belly and came. "That's it, that's it, Baby. That's it," said Brian, holding Justin tight while the teen ejaculated. He gasped and shot his load too, shot it up Justin's hole. "Oh, Baby…" he sighed. "Oh…" Deep breath. "Mmmm…"

Trembling, Justin collapsed against Brian and shut his eyes. 

 

"Thanks," said Jennifer as she accepted a cup of coffee from Cynthia. She and Brian had decided to meet at his office as he had a meeting immediately after theirs. Taking a cautious sip, she savored the intense flavor for a moment, then asked, "Still interested?"

"Justin loves that house."

"And you?" She'd learned not to accept the things he said but to ferret out the meaning behind the things he didn't say.

"I love it too but I have to pay for it, at least until he graduates and starts working so…"

"So?"

"We need to negotiate."

She'd been afraid he would say that. "Risky. It's a great house in a great neighborhood and it's not an unreasonable asking price."

"No. But it's got low ceilings when everywhere you look architects are designing houses with twenty foot cathedral ceilings in every room. And it's a three bedroom house with two and a half baths. Most houses in that price range have four, five bedrooms and three and a half baths."

"But the rooms are large."

"Plus, it's got an unfinished basement." Not that he really cared. "No game room, no bathroom. Everybody wants those things now. Face it, they've got a limited market. So, we offer them seven hundred and fifty thousand."

"They won't accept it. They'd barely be making back their investment." Jennifer didn't know that for sure but she could guess that they'd put in a lot of extras after the place had been constructed.

"Then we look elsewhere and they deal with one another that much longer."

"Brian—"

"We have to decorate and pay for the upkeep of that monster." Still, even though he'd thought about it long and hard, he paused. Then said, "Seven hundred and fifty thousand and not a penny more."

Jennifer sighed. "All right. Do you want to be there when I make the offer?"

"How soon can you set it up?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Let me know when and where."

She blinked as if she just remembered something. "Oh. I need a key to the loft and the code to the building."

"Got any nibbles yet?"

"Two. Very interested. I want to show it tomorrow afternoon if I can to one of the parties."

"I'll have a key made today, and give it to you at the meeting."

Tomorrow. The offer letter. Back to the matter at hand. "I'll draft the letter but I need some specifics from you."

As Jenn got out her folder and prepared to receive his information, Brian hoped that he hadn't made a mistake. He didn't know what he'd do if they rejected his offer. More importantly, he didn't know how he'd be able to face Justin with the news. 

 

His mind on the house and not on waiting tables, Justin managed to mix up three orders so horribly that even the customers were confused as to what they had originally ordered, to step on Deb's toe twice as they passed one another, and to break a couple of dishes. Dishes and orders aside, it was only when he stepped on Deb's toe for the third time that she yelled at him.

"Sunshine!"

"Sorry."

"Tell that to my throbbing, fucking toe." She perched on a stool and took a breather, hoping her toe didn't turn purple. "So what's up?"

"Nothing." Brian had sworn him to secrecy about the house. Not until we're sure, he'd told him.

"Nothing, my big, fat ass. Spill."

"I can't."

"Ah… Brian. What's he up to now?"

"No—"

"Nothing," she said and stood up again. "Well, when it becomes something, you let me know."

About to explode, Justin blurted out, "We found a house." He bit down on his lip. Brian was going to kill him.

"You putting in an offer?"

"Soon. Brian's meeting with my mom. Please, don't tell him I told you. He didn't want to say anything until he signed the papers."

"My lips are sealed." 

 

Famous last words. When Brian came in for lunch, Deb hugged him. "I'm so happy for you, kiddo."

"For having lunch?" Then he glanced at Justin and raised a brow. "Loose lips…"

Justin shrugged. "Sorry."

"I'll make you pay later." They kissed. "Your mom's drafting the letter. We're meeting with the sellers tomorrow. You want to come?"

"You think I should?"

Not wanting to hurt Justin's feelings, Brian replied, "Probably not. But it's up to you."

"It's not like my name's going to be on the title and you're taking out the mortgage so I don't really have to be involved."

Pulling the teen into a booth next to him, Brian said, "You are involved. This is our house, no matter whose name is on the title or the loan. Same way the loft is ours." He kissed Justin again. "So… what's good today?"

Incredulous, Justin asked, "Here?"

"Right. Fries."

Kissing Brian once more, Justin went to put in his order and hoped that nothing went wrong with Brian's meeting tomorrow. 

 

Even lying in bed that night, after having 'paid' for spilling the beans about the house, he could barely concentrate on anything else but the meeting he wouldn't be attending. Finally closing his eyes in an effort to sleep, he prayed that everything went smoothly.

Turning over away from the teen as he was accustomed to do, Brian thought about calling Jenn and having her up their offer, just in case. But seven hundred and fifty thousand was a fair price for that house, despite the beautiful architecture and landscaped grounds and all the extras like the French doors and Palladian windows and terra cotta floors…

Fuck, he cursed himself. He couldn't call her now, Justin would know something was up, would know that Brian was having doubts about paying the asking price for the house despite what he'd said the day before. It was too late. He'd just have to go into that meeting and pray that the divorcing couple was ready to accept any reasonable offer just to end their association with one another.

But he couldn't do it, couldn't trust their future to the whims of strangers. Getting up, he palmed his cell phone from the bedside table and went into the bathroom. Glancing at Justin, he assured himself that the teen hadn't noticed anything, especially since he was turned the other way. He closed the sliding door, something he rarely did but he did close it on occasion, almost randomly. He waited, then when he didn't hear Justin stir, called Jennifer. She answered sleepily. Well, it was after eleven. "Jenn, Brian."

"Brian? Something wrong?"

"Eight hundred thousand." He said it before he could change his mind.

She instantly perked. "You want to up your offer?"

"Yeah."

"I'll redo the letter tomorrow before our meeting."

"Thanks." Added, "Sorry about waking you up."

"No problem. See you tomorrow. Night."

"Night." He closed the phone and peed for good measure and flushed and returned to bed. Slipped in next to Justin and replaced his phone. Luckily, Justin hadn't stirred. Now he could sleep.

Justin frowned and wondered why Brian had closed the door when he'd gone to the bathroom. He'd heard it slide close and open too. Mentally he shrugged. Their new bathroom didn't have a door, just an arched doorway. He smiled in the dark. Their new bathroom. In their new house. Only, it wasn't theirs yet. Yet. His smile grew wider. 

 

Jennifer was pleased to see that Brian had worn one of his more conservative suits, dark grey, white shirt, and a beautiful blue tie. He looked young yet successful. His outfit said, I have style and money. She could tell that the Baumanns were already impressed. Their agent, however, was not. He looked as if he'd tasted something slightly disagreeable. And if she noticed the expression, there was no way Brian would miss it. How would he respond? She had no idea. Despite having known him for a couple of years, he remained something of a mystery to her, due mostly to his unpredictable behavior. Yet, Justin would say that his unpredictability was predictable. Still it didn't help her at this moment. She needed him to remain calm and to keep his infamous temper reined in. Risking a glance at his face, she felt jittery inside. He'd seen. And he wasn't pleased but he didn't seem to be on the verge of a major meltdown. In fact, he seemed rather blasé about the entire matter. And that worried her. She had no idea what he'd do.

Closet queen Brian declared to himself. Hence the hostility. Well, Brian said to the man with his eyes, that's your problem, not mine, and he dismissed him without a further thought. He'd met men like that before, who'd disliked him because they resented him and felt inferior. Not once had he let it stop him and he didn't plan on letting it stop him now. Justin wanted that house and he'd have it. They'd both have it. No matter what.

Since it appeared that the Baumanns' agent was not going to speak first, Jennifer made introduced herself and Brian. "Mr. and Mrs. Baumann, I'm Jennifer Taylor and this is my client, Brian Kinney."

Mr. Baumann nodded and Mrs. Baumann smiled shyly and extended her hand. "Mr. Kinney."

"Mrs. Baumann." Brian took it and smiled in return whereupon Mrs. Baumann's fingers lingered just a tad long on his before letting go. Justin would have accused him of flirting but who did it hurt? He had no intention of making a serious pass at a forty-five year-old woman. He was just being himself.

Noticing that he'd been left out of the conversation thus far, the Baumanns' agent spoke up at last. "And I'm Mr. Withers." He glanced at Brian surreptitiously before continuing. "I believe you're here to tender an offer, Ms. Taylor?"

Brian smiled inwardly. Withers was already losing ground.

First handing copies of the offer letter to each of the Baumanns, she gave one to Withers as well. As a formality, she also handed one over to Brian. And then she held her breath and waited.

Withers was the first to speak this time. "You do understand that the asking price is eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Ms. Taylor?"

"Yes, my client understands that quite well, Mr. Withers."

"This offer is for eight hundred thousand dollars."

Catching Mrs. Baumann's eye, Brian said nothing but he could tell that she was ready to accept the offer. The tension between her and her soon-to-be ex-husband was palpable. But the husband might be a problem and definitely the asshole agent would be as well.

Mr. Baumann spoke up. "Was there something wrong with the house?"

Speaking for Brian, Jennifer said, "My client feels that the limited number of bedrooms and bathrooms might be a problem and because of the unique architecture of the building, extensive renovations would be undesirable."

"Do you have children, Mr. Kinney?" asked Mrs. Baumann.

"A son."

"Then what's the problem?" her husband asked.

"We may have more children. And we'd like to keep one room as a guest room."

Looking rather smug, Withers asked, "We?"

"My partner and I," replied Brian. So Jennifer hadn't explained the situation. So be it.

"Then you're…" began Mrs. Baumann.

"Gay," Brian answered.

"Why isn't he here?" inquired Baumann.

"He's at work." Should he explain? Something told him not to. Not unless he absolutely had to.

"But his name will be on the title as well?" Withers asked.

"No." Brian glanced down at the offer. "I think it's pretty well explained in the letter. I'm the sole purchaser."

Not willing to let go, Withers continued with his line of questioning. "And what does your partner do?"

Not pausing an instant, Brian replied, "He's an artist." Which was true. So what if he was also a college student?

Fascinated, Mrs. Baumann asked, "And you and your partner adopted a child?"

"Gus is my biological son. His mother is a friend of mine. He lives with her full-time but we're hoping to share custody eventually."

Jennifer really hoped this was the end of the questions about Justin. God forbid if they asked Brian how he knew her. _Her nineteen-year-old son is my partner._ That would go over real well with Mr. Withers. There was something odd about him. Something she couldn't put her finger on.

Putting the issue of Justin aside, Withers turned to the offer letter once more. "Speaking for my clients, I would have to say that the asking price is more than fair considering the amount of money and work that they've put into the house. I'm sure if it were to go out on the open market, their asking price would be met without a problem."

"How soon would you be able to close on the house if we accepted your offer?" asked Mr. Baumann, ruffling Withers' feathers a bit. With the sale of the house, his ties to Carol would be cut and he'd be free to move on. They'd only paid four hundred thousand for the house in the first place. Despite the work that they'd had done to it, they'd be reaping a substantial profit from the sale.

"I'm in the process of selling my loft. I was planning to use money from the sale as a ten percent down payment but I already have pre-approval for a loan from my bank and if I have to, I can use other resources to finance a down payment. It'd take me a few days to liquidate some other assets but that wouldn't be a problem. As it states in the letter, we're willing to close by the twenty-seventh, as long as the house passes all of its inspections."

"And you're offering eight thousand today as a deposit?" asked Baumann consulting the letter.

"Yes." It would take a huge chunk out of his savings but it would be worth it if they accepted his offer.

Sensing that his commission was about to be smaller than he'd previously thought, Withers spoke up again. "Mr. Baumann, I would remind you that on the open market, we'd have no trouble—"

"What do you think, Carol?" Baumann asked his wife.

"I think eight hundred thousand is a fair price." She smiled at Brian. "What's fifty thousand dollars between friends?" 

 

As soon as they left the real estate agent's office, Brian picked Jennifer up and kissed her soundly on the cheek. "Yes!" Put her down and laughed. "I have never been so happy to be so broke in my life." He smiled. "I can't wait to tell Justin." They walked to the Jeep and got in.

"Well, you won't be broke for long," she told him. "I'm showing the loft this afternoon and tomorrow morning. I know it's immaculate so I won't bother to ask you if it looks presentable." Brian was a stickler for keeping the loft neat as a pin.

"I had the maid come over this morning to make sure everything was in its place. Just don't open any chests," he warned, a grin on his face, and pulled away from the curb.

Jennifer blushed. She'd heard plenty about their toys and had no desire to see where they kept them. She still couldn't believe Brian had taken some on their trip to Europe and that Customs had discovered them during their search. He was incorrigible.

Flipping open his phone, he called Justin at work, keeping part of his attention on the road. "Hey, Baby. Guess what? We're moving." Laughed at Justin's response and nodded his head. "Yeah. She was great." Thought about Justin's question. "Around six. I've got a late meeting, I don't know how long it'll run. Okay. You too. Later."

Although she was pleased that Brian had thought she'd done a great job during their meeting with the Baumanns, she had to admit that he was the one who cinched the deal. "You were right to negotiate."

"I'm glad we upped the price though. I think Mr. Baumann might have gone the other way if we'd only come with seven hundred and fifty."

She smiled. "As Mrs. Baumann says, what's fifty thousand dollars between friends?"

"I think if we had come to the table with seven hundred and fifty thousand, I would have had to have gotten a lot closer to and a lot friendlier with Mrs. Baumann." He glanced at Jenn, "And no offense, but I'm really not into straight women of a certain age."

Jenn laughed. "You like them younger?"

And he laughed as well. She was learning how to take him. 

 

For the rest of the day, it was pretty damn impossible for him to stop smiling even though they had weeks ahead of inspections and meetings and paperwork out the wazoo. They had gotten their house. Just thinking about them lying naked out by the pool or sitting in the courtyard beneath the wisteria made him feel a little lightheaded.

"So when am I going to see this fabulous house?" asked Cynthia.

"When you help us move in," Brian joked.

"Boss, this body and manual labor. You do the math." And she turned on her heel to escape before he came up with any other threats.

"Hey." He nearly cracked up at the look she gave him, probably imagining all kinds of crappy assignments. "Find a dealer who sells Philippe Starck bathtubs."

Breathing easier, she smiled. "Will do, Boss."

Laughing, Brian flipped through his papers to find the one he'd been looking for before he'd lost his train of thought daydreaming.

_Who the fuck is going to take care of that gigantic yard and all those fuckin' trees?_

As soon as he'd hung up on Brian, he'd begun to count the minutes until he was off. Luckily, he only worked the morning shift today so when twelve rolled around, he jumped into the Cherokee and went to see Joanie. But first he had to endure about thirty kisses from Deb so that he looked sunburned when he left he had so many red splotches on his face.

He was still rubbing the lip prints away when he pulled into Joanie's yard. The car was parked in front of the garage so technically she was home but she sometimes walked to a neighbor's or to the store and didn't bother with the car. Hopping out, he ran to the door and knocked. Soon her head peeked from behind the curtain and she smiled and opened the front door. "Justin."

"We got it!" he announced.

"Got what?"

He'd forgotten. Brian hadn't told anyone. "A house."

Waving him in, she said, "I didn't know you were that close to getting one."

"No one did," he explained. "Brian wanted to keep it quiet until his offer was accepted. They accepted it today and we're supposed to close on it at the end of the month."

"Coffee?"

"No thanks." He'd drank about a pot this morning since he'd had to be at the diner at five to get ready for the breakfast crowd.

"Well," she said, sitting across from him, "this is exciting."

"We have to decorate it from top to bottom."

"What about your furniture?"

"We're selling it with the loft. Most of it anyway. So we have to buy all new stuff. And the house is huge." He grinned and bit his lip. "It's so amazing. I can't wait until you see it. And…" he added, "we also have to plan for our wedding."

Joanie started. "Did you say wedding?"

He'd forgotten again that Brian hadn't mentioned that either to anyone but Jennifer. "We're getting married. Next month. So there's some time to plan for it. Not a lot but—"

"Not a lot? A month." She laid a hand aside her cheek. "Well, we can do it."

Until that moment, Justin hadn't thought about how Joanie would react, not to the idea of having so little time to plan a wedding but to the idea of her son marrying another man. "Is it okay with you? That we're getting married?"

"You already are. This is just the ceremony," she replied, smiling, thinking back to the two of them standing in front of the flowered arch in their apartment, how the thought had come to her then that they were married. "Next month. Please tell me it's late in the month."

"The fifteenth?"

"Justin! And we have to decorate the house too?" She chuckled although her head spun with the enormity of their undertaking.

"Just a few rooms at first. Our suite, Gus' room and his bath, the guest room, and the family room. But the only area that really has to be done by the wedding is our suite and the downstairs bathroom. We're going to rent tables and chairs for the ceremony and the reception and just put them in the reception hall and the livingroom."

"How many people?"

"We're thinking twenty-five, thirty. No more than thirty."

Standing, Joanie turned on her computer, the one she'd bought right after Christmas with some of the money she'd earned decorating Woody's. "Don't just sit there," she told Justin, "we've got work to do." When he'd joined her, she said, "I suppose my son has left all of this up to us."

"Well," admitted Justin, "he agreed to look at options. So long as we came up with them. And he's doing the bathroom in the master suite. He wants a Philippe Starck tub."

"Pricey," commented Joanie.

"He worships him," Justin explained.

"His money," she said and she accessed her bookmarked sites to begin creating lists from which she and Justin would work. "You have the room measurements yet?"

"No," he replied, "but think huge. We can always take stuff away. And I'm not sure how much money we're going to have to decorate anyway. Especially with the wedding."

Joanie shook her head. "If I know that son of mine, he'll want everything perfect for the wedding. After all, presentation—"

"Is everything," he finished, laughing softly. 

 

By the time Brian had changed and begun helping Justin put out the food, their guests started to arrive.

Lindsay and Melanie made it there first, wanting to know if there was anything they could do. Brian switched off with them since Gus wanted him to play immediately and wouldn't take, "Later," as an answer.

So while he kept Gus entertained in the livingroom, the Munchers ferried bowls and platters from the kitchen to the dining table and made sure there were enough plates and flatware on hand.

"May I ask what the big announcement is?" Mel asked Justin, hoping to pump him for information.

"Nope," he replied smiling. He'd learned his lesson.

Thwarted, Mel grumbled, "He's getting to be a little too much like the Asshole."

"Mel!" scolded Lindsay. "Not so loud. Gus is gonna think that's Brian's name."

"Isn't it?" She called out. "Hey, Gus, what's Daddy's name?"

He looked up from his puzzle and said, "Daddy."

"No, what's Daddy's name?" She pointed to Justin. "Daddy's name is Justin." Pointed to Brian. "What's Daddy's name?"

Gus brightened. "Pookie," and the women and Justin laughed so hard they had to stop what they were doing for a little while. Brian was not amused.

"Say, 'Brian,' Gus."

"Pookie." The baby smiled.

Giving Justin the eye, Brian said, "You know." He didn't even have to make the threat. Justin would understand.

He did and wasn't worried at all. His Pookie would give it up whenever and however he wanted. He waved sweetly and went back to work on dinner.

By the time Mikey and Jeff and Emmett and Ted arrived, the women were about to burst with the effort of keeping their curiosity under control. They didn't think they could wait for Vic and Deb to arrive but, luckily, they came in a few minutes after the guys. Finding a parking place, they explained.

Gus finally got his fill of playing with Brian and went in search of Justin who was carving the roasted chicken he'd picked up for dinner. "Daddy!"

Emmett almost fell off the arm of the chair where he was perched. "Did he just call Justin Daddy?"

"Told you," said Michael.

"What?" asked Justin.

"Hungry."

"Okay, we're going to eat soon. Just wait."

"No," pouted Gus.

"He's been grouchy all afternoon," Lindsay explained. "Gus, behave."

Ignoring her, the toddler held out his hand and Justin, feeling sorry for him, slipped him a sliver of chicken. "There."

His prize in hand, Gus went to sit with Vic. "May I have some?" Vic asked but Gus shook his head. Vic laughed as the toddler munched on the piece of thigh meat.

"He's Brian's son, all right," said Deb. "Doesn’t like to share."

"Toys, boys, or secrets," complained Ted. "So what's the big deal? We're all here, so spill."

"In a minute," Brian promised. He got out two bottles of Chianti and made sure everyone had a glass, even Justin who paused in his preparations. Standing next to his partner, Brian kept his word. "Justin and I just made an offer on a house."

"Where?" asked Lindsay but Brian held up a hand to forestall any further questions.

"And," he announced, "we're getting married. Next month." He exchanged smiles with Justin then proposed the following toast, "To us."

"To us," replied Justin and they clicked glasses.

Once the surprise had worn off, their guests raised their glasses as well. Then the questions began.

"Where's the house?

"How many rooms?"

"When are you getting married?"

"When did you decide to get married?"

"When are you moving?"

"Who bought the loft?"

Brian assured them that all questions would be answered in time and then Justin directed them to the table where the food was laid out. Even though the food was delicious, they all kept pestering them between mouthfuls to give them the full story behind the house and the sudden decision to get married.

"Justin isn't pregnant, is he?" joked Emmett.

"Well, it'd have to be him. I can't see Brian carrying a baby to term," said Ted.

"I can barely see him carrying a baby across the street," Jeff added.

"I carried Gus. And changed his diaper and fed him and helped toilet train him too. Didn’t I, Gus?" Brian asked the tot, who was perched on his lap, his favorite place to sit when he was eating. Gus nodded and offered Brian the rest of his roll. Brian lowered his head and ate it out of the baby's hand, snuffling his fingers, which caused Gus to giggle. It tickled.

"So what's the big rush?" asked Michael. He'd been quiet every since Brian's announcement.

"What rush? We've been together almost three years."

"So why have a wedding?"

Brian looked sideways at Michael and replied, "Because we wanted one."

"Hey!" exclaimed Em. "You think they'll cover it in the local fag rag?"

"Hopefully," said Jeff. "Cause they certainly won't in the mainstream papers. They won't even print same-sex announcements."

"They might, since it's Brian and Justin. Big news," Michael told them. "Victim of Gay Bashing Weds His Savior," he said, sketching the headline in the air. "But then they'd have to mention that one of the grooms is nineteen and the other is thirty-one."

"I'll be twenty by then," Justin reminded everyone.

"Twenty and thirty-one. I guess that'll look better."

"Who the fuck cares how it looks?" asked Deb. "They're getting married because they love each other. And I, for one, am ecstatic."

"Here, here," cheered Em. "A toast." They all raised their glasses, even Gus, who had a sippy cup full of juice. "To the happy couple, may all their dreams come true."

"To the happy couple."

After he'd sipped his wine, Justin said, "You should see the house. It looks like a castle. It's a Mediterranean-style villa with a tower."

"A tower?" Lindsay asked.

"Yeah. The stairs to the second floor are inside it. It is so cool," he exclaimed. "And there's a balcony next to it coming out of the library."

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?" recited Em.

"At Babylon or Woody's," answered Ted and the guys laughed.

"I don't think so," Vic said. "He's a responsible adult now."

Brian groaned. "Don't say that."

"Pretty soon he'll be driving to PTA meetings and soccer games," laughed Lindsay, just imagining Brian sitting on the sidelines cheering Gus on or at a school bake sale with a platter of not-so-special brownies in his hands.

"Trading in his Jeep for a mini-van," laughed Emmett.

"So you're giving up the partying," said Michael.

"I'll be too busy paying for that fuckin' house," he groused.

"How much?"

"Enough to keep me off the streets and out of trouble. I'll be working late at the office like a good little hubby. And," he added, "Justin doesn't have to worry about me fuckin' my secretary."

They all laughed just imagining Brian and Cynthia doing the nasty. Not that Cynthia wouldn't be up for it. Justin secretly believed that she was a member of the Straight Girls for Brian Kinney Club too. He couldn't wait to call Daphne and tell her about the house and the wedding. He wanted to tell her in private which was why he hadn't invited her to the get-together. And from Michael's reaction, he thought he was right to do so. Michael seemed less than thrilled with their news. Guess he and Brian would have to have another talk alone to straighten things out.

Brian must have been thinking the same thing because as Michael and Jeff were leaving, Brian said to his best friend, "Lunch tomorrow? My office?"

"Make it day after tomorrow?"

"Sure. Later, Mikey."

"Later."

Closing the door, Brian walked around making sure they hadn't missed any glasses. Justin said nothing, just continued to load the dishwasher. Brian did find a few strands of chicken which he suspected had belonged to Gus. He dumped them and tied the garbage bag to take down. Sighed loudly. Smirking, Justin cut on the dishwasher and then turned his attention to Brian as the man had intended. "Yes?"

"I don't know what's wrong with Mikey."

"Same thing was wrong with you when he and Dr. Dave got together," Justin reminded him.

"Don’t remind me," he said.

"It's good you're having lunch together. Talk it over."

"We're having food, not a heart-to-heart."

"Maybe you should do both."

Taking the garbage in hand, Brian said, "I'll leave that to you and Daphne."

"Asshole." He wiped down the counter, then said just as Brian was about to walk out the door. "I've got some beds I want you to look at when you get back."

Sighing even louder, Brian slowly crossed the threshold and wondered just how long he could stay away before Justin sent out a search party. 

 

After looking at the fourth wrought iron canopy bed, Brian began to notice a pattern. "So what's with the canopy beds?"

"I've always wanted one."

"A princess in her bower," teased Brian.

"Shut up and tell me what you think."

"Well," he began, "I think the ones I've seen so far are too…"

"Girly?"

"Busy," Brian said, surprising the teen. "There's too much going on." He sat back. "I don't know. It's hard to say when I don't know what look you're going for."

"I don't know," shrugged Justin. "Something that'll fit the house. Something vaguely Mediterranean. Or exotic. A lot of the Mediterranean bedrooms your mom and I looked at had white canopies or curtains on the bed."

"Thought you didn't want any white furniture in the house."

"We don't have to go with a white color scheme. We can do something else."

"Like…?"

"Like I don't know yet," Justin said exasperated. "We got some books on Mediterranean and Italian style and we're going through them. I was thinking maybe earth tones. They seem to be hot this year. Cinnamon, terra cotta, umber, maybe burnt sienna," he suggested slyly.

Brian smiled softly thinking of his burnt sienna sweater. He loved that sweater and he hardly ever wore it since their trip abroad. Definitely have to rectify that. "Sounds good to me." He sat forward. "All right, show me some more beds." After looking at about twenty beds and saying nothing beyond an occasional grunt, Brian finally spoke. "That one. I like that one." It was made of rattan and had faux crocodile leather on the headboard and foot board; the bedposts were massive with decorative balls on top. Something about the posts reminded Brian of tree trunks.

Justin shook his head. Leave to Brian to like the most expensive one. "It's really expensive. They wouldn't even say how much it was."

"So? I like it. So do you. I say we get it. It looks sturdy enough. Take a lot of bouncing," he grinned.

"You'll be working so hard to pay for the house you won't have any energy to bounce," joked Justin.

"Probably right," Brian agreed.

Justin paused and moved closer to his partner. "Brian? Tell me the truth. This isn't too much, is it? The house and all? Cause we can find another place to live."

"No, we can't. Not after today. They've got eight thousand of my hard-earned dollars so we're stuck with it now."

"Then we can skip the wedding."

"I've already told you, we're having a wedding." He didn’t even know why he was so insistent on it but it had become a non-negotiable point. "We're having a fuckin' fantastic wedding. Got it?"

"Brian—"

"Got it?"

Justin gave up. "Got it."

Studying the bed again, Brian said, "I say we get this one."

"We have to find a furniture store that carries the brand. They don't sell directly to consumers."

"So do it and find out how long it'll take them to deliver it."

"And we'll be paying for it how?"

"Use the card." He made a mental note to talk to Ted about liquidating some of his stock. He might not have to, depending on how much he was able to get for the loft. Still, even with money from the sale and even at decorating the house a few rooms at a time, it was going to cost a bundle. He took another look at the bed. They'd need a mattress. And that they could get in Pitts, no problem. 

 

Having given their orders to the waitress, the two best friends settled down to talk.

"So?" asked Daphne, anxious to find out why Justin had wanted to have lunch, not that they didn't have lunch when they could since she'd be heading back to Princeton soon enough, but he seemed to have something specific he wanted to discuss.

"We found a house," he said with no preamble.

"Justin!" she said, bouncing in her seat. "That is so cool. What's it like?"

"It's kind of like an Italian villa but smaller. And it's got a tower where the stairs are. And balconies and loggia and pergola and a lap pool and this long hallway with kind of like Palladian windows." He stopped cause Daphne was laughing and he laughed with her. "It's incredible, Daphne."

"Sounds fabulous. And expensive."

"It is," he confessed. "Eight hundred thousand dollars."

"Oh. My. God," she whispered, in awe of the figure. "But, it'll be all right cause Brian wouldn't have done it if he thought he couldn't handle it."

"I hope." He wasn't as confident as she was, having seen the worried look that sometimes appeared in Brian's eyes when they discussed the house. Still, Brian kept assuring him that everything was okay. Now, onto the other part of his news. "There's something else."

"What?" she asked, leaning forward.

"Brian and I are getting married next month. I want you to be my best man, woman, whatever." He laughed. "Would you?"

"Oh. My. God, Justin. Married?"

"On the fifteenth."

"And you want me to be your best… whatever?"

He nodded. "Who else? You're my best friend and I want you there."

"Do I have to wear a tux?"

"We'll find you a beautiful dress to wear. But not too beautiful, you can't outshine the grooms."

She grinned. "I could be wearing Vera Wang and it wouldn't matter. All eyes are gonna be on you two." Smiling, she asked, "Did you ever think you'd get married?"

"No," he replied. "I always figured that was for straight people. And even after Brian and I got together, I never thought he'd want to get married. Even after we exchanged rings." He didn't tell her about their big blow up about the ceremony.

"You must be so excited."

"I am. And kinda overwhelmed. I mean, we have to move, decorate the house, and plan for the wedding."

"You need any help?"

"Brian's mom is helping with the decorating and coordinating stuff for the wedding but if you could look for a dress, that'd help a lot."

"What color?"

"Silver. Our colors are going to be silver and blue. It's easier to match silvers than blues so all the women are wearing silver dresses and the men are wearing blue vests. Except for me and Brian. We're wearing silver ones."

"Sounds cool."

"Our theme is a winter wonderland."

Daphne squealed. "Ooo, snow and snowflakes and pretty white lights and stuff."

"There's this huge reception hall area in the middle of the house, that's where we're going to have the ceremony. We're going to stand in front of the French doors leading to the solarium."

"A solarium?"

"That's where my studio's gonna be. I hope you get to see it before you go back to school."

"Me too." Her eyes took on a dreamy look. "I can't believe you're getting married and you're moving into a fabulous new house. It's kinda like you're doing all the things my parents always wanted me to do."

"You'll move into a fabulous new house someday too. And you could get married but you don't want to."

"Nope." She looked up as their lunches appeared. "But I wouldn't mind having the wedding." As he laughed, she added, "And the presents." Testing her fries and finding them super hot, she waited for them to cool off. "So have you told Xavier yet?"

"Had to tell you first."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Yeah. I'm hoping he can come and Rennie too and Nana Rose."

"Trey too?"

"The invitation will say "and guest"." _Why did she have to bring Xavier up anyway?_

Cocking her head, she watched him for a moment, then asked, "Do you like Trey?"

He frowned. "I've only met him once. But he seemed okay to me."

"How do you think Xavier's going to react? To the news?"

"Why should he care, Daph?" Justin picked at his fries, ignoring his burning fingers and trying to keep from getting angry with her. But she was pushing it.

"Ah, hello? Because he was in love with you."

"Well, he's not anymore."

"Says who? Just because he has a boyfriend?" She shook her head. "Come on, Justin."

"I'm not in love with him anymore."

"That's different."

He wanted to laugh but there was nothing funny about the situation. "How?"

"Because you have Brian."

"And you can't imagine me wanting anyone else?"

"Because you're about to be married, idiot." She rolled her eyes. "Is Xavier?"

"Still doesn't mean he's in love with me. He's had a whole summer and the fall to get over that. And he has. We're just friends now. He's even told you that."

"Well, my middle name isn't gullible so, excuse me, if I'm a little skeptical," she said, deigning to try her fries now. Just right.

"No, it's Maureen," Justin said, knowing how much she hated it.

"Shut up." She nibbled on a fry. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I know, Daph, and I'm glad." He took a bite of his hamburger. "So are you bringing Courtney to the wedding?"

"Maybe. If he behaves himself."

"I can't believe you found a guy named Courtney."

She giggled. "His parents were hoping for a girl."

"Least they didn't name him Maureen," said Justin and Daphne threw a fry at him. 

 

Brian picked up. "Yeah?" Cynthia was on the line telling him Jenn was there to see him. "Send her in." He put aside his work and waited for her to appear. "Well?"

"Well," she said as she sat, "I think we've got a live one. They loved the loft."

"Two guys?"

"Straight couple."

Brian groaned. "In the loft?" Sighed. "I was hoping to keep it in the family."

"They're willing to pay two hundred for it."

"Fuck the family. Do they have the money?"

"Pre-approved."

"I’m loving them more and more all the time. When do we meet?"

"Thursday afternoon soon enough?"

"Definitely."

She grabbed her purse and stood. "I'll see you then. At my office."

"Will do." Things were falling into place. 

 

Despite Brian's reassurance that he wasn't planning on doing anything embarrassing, Justin felt the tiniest bit of trepidation as they stepped inside the furniture store. That level of trepidation rose incrementally as a very young and good-looking salesman approached them. Totally gay.

"May I help you?"

"We're looking for mattresses. King-sized," Brian told him, barely suppressing a smile. He had promised Justin.

"Do you have a budget that you're working with?" the sales associate asked, as the store mostly carried high-end products. Still, from the outfit that the guy was wearing, he looked as if he could afford their prices.

Not disappointing him, Brian said, "Show us the best that you have…" He leaned forward to read his nametag, "Dennis."

"Very well. This way, sir. We've got Royal-a-Pedic latex—"

Justin interrupted him. "I don't know about the latex. I've got allergies."

Brian concurred. "He's allergic to a lot of stuff. We'd better stick to cotton or something like that."

"Royal also features a line of cotton mattresses. Plus we have Simmons and Sealy."

Gesturing towards the mattresses, Brian said, "Lay on, Macduff."

They'd done as the websites had suggested and worn loose fitting clothes. Getting interesting looks, they proceeded to test each of the beds under consideration until they'd narrowed their choices down to three although both of them were secretly leaning towards the Simmons.

Brian laid down on his back and said to Justin, "Come here."

Giving Brian a panicked look, Justin whispered, "What?"

He motioned to his partner. "Come here." Justin slid closer. "Lay on top of me."

"What?" Justin's voice raised in a crack. "Are you crazy?"

"Do it. I wanna know if this thing is gonna support us both in the same spot."

"No way." They'd already garnered a couple of dirty looks from straight couples and Dennis looked like he was about a motion away from cardiac arrest.

"Do it," he said and he reached for Justin and pulled him over onto him. Justin froze in place, mouth slightly open. "Close your mouth or they'll think we're about to make out," teased Brian. He held Justin in place for a moment, gauging the give of the mattress, and then rolled them over.

"Ah…" began Dennis.

"How does that feel?" Brian asked Justin, lying on top of the teenager.

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"It feels good. I can hardly tell the difference."

Rolling off of Justin, Brian suggested they try it on their knees.

"No fucking way," hissed Justin.

"Not one behind the other, perv, on our separate sides. I don't want to cause a riot. Especially since we've given up on threesomes," he grinned, looking around at Dennis who looked like he wanted to join them. He definitely had the beginnings of a boner beneath his trousers.

"Okay, as long as you stay on your side." Justin had visions of Brian sneaking up behind him.

Behaving himself, Brian stayed on his side of the bed and they tested it on their knees. "Feels good," said Brian.

"Yeah," agreed Justin.

"Bounce."

"Bounce?"

"Yeah. Bounce. You know how." Brian turned and sat on his butt and began to bounce up and down on the bed. After a moment, Justin joined him and they both bounced on the mattress, grinning at one another and at the look on Dennis' face as he recognized the quickening rhythm of their movements. "That's it, Baby," cooed Brian and Justin laughed, shaking his head.

They slipped off the bed and put their shoes back on. "So," Brian said to Dennis, "we won't actually need this for a few weeks yet. We're moving at the end of the month. Should we pay for it now and have it delivered then or wait until it's closer to the time of our move?"

Stammering, Dennis replied, "Whichever you'd prefer, sir." His face was flushed pink and he had moved his folder of leaflets in front of his crotch.

Pursing his lips, aware of the man's eyes on them, Brian said, "We'll wait then. Thanks for your help."

"Thanks," echoed Justin. "Bye."

"Good-bye," mouthed Dennis and he checked his watch. Break time. 

 

"How much do you want to bet the minute we left, he ran to the bathroom and beat off?" asked Brian.

"I know he did," Justin said, snickering. "You were so wrong."

"I wasn't up there by myself," Brian reminded him.

"Don't remind me," he said, covering his face. Least the next time they went in there, they'd know exactly what they'd want and there'd be no 'testing' required.

"What's next on the list?"

"Well, we have a bed, that's all." Which meant the list was pretty long of things they needed to get.

"Cynthia found a distributor for the tub; and we can get the matching vanity and toilet and bidet too, whatever the fuck it's for."

"Cleanliness."

"Isn't that why we have toilet paper?" he asked, frowning.

"Don't ask me. I didn't invent either one," Justin said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, cause if you had, we'd be wealthy."

"You are wealthy," Justin pointed out.

"I mean really, really wealthy. We're just doing well."

The distinction having been made clear to him in the past few days, Justin agreed. "So we'll have a house with only a little furniture at first. All we really need is a bed and a table and some chairs."

"At the rate we're going, that's all we're gonna have for a while," smirked Brian which let Justin know that he was kidding.

Going along with the joke, Justin said, "Maybe we could pick up a few things at Ikea."

"Do you want to walk home?"

Miming zipping his lip, Justin suppressed a giggle. God, Brian was such a designer label queen. Still, despite his best efforts, he began to laugh and Brian reached over and pushed him on the shoulder which only made him laugh harder. 

 

That night, around two in the morning, Justin woke in a sweat and sat straight up in bed, momentarily lost. Then he heard Brian snoring softly and remembered where he was but he was still in a panic. Over and over he heard the words, "Eight hundred thousand dollars," until they seemed to be syncopated with his heartbeat. Although they had a ways to go yet the house was, for all practical purposes, theirs. A eight hundred thousand dollar house. With no furniture. And they were getting married in little over a month. In a house with no furniture. He covered his eyes and took a deep breath. What were they thinking?

"Justin…?"

Brian sounded half-awake and Justin wished he'd drift back off but the man turned and looked at him out of eyes that were growing clearer by the moment. "Just a little restless."

"Maybe it was something you ate," Brian told him as the teen had had a bowl of chili and a plate of fries and it had been enough to give Brian heartburn just looking at him.

"Maybe."

At that, Brian sat up as it had become to clear to him that Justin wasn't "Just a little restless." "So what's wrong?" he asked.

"Can't sleep, that's all."

"Hmm," replied Brian, then he flung back the covers and grabbed his robe, tying it only half closed.

"Where are you going?"

"Warm milk. Deb always says it helps."

"How come you never drink it then?" asked Justin as Brian suffered from insomnia a great deal.

"I hate warm milk," he explained as if that were any kind of explanation.

"That's okay," said Justin, hoping to head him off but Brian had already opened one of the panels in the glass partition and stepped through, climbing down from the top of the storage cabinets. Resigning himself to drinking warm milk, Justin waited patiently for Brian to return with a cup. Only he didn't think it'd really help. God, he was tense. As much as he wanted the house, he didn't want Brian to get in a bind. Could they really afford it? He'd known the house wouldn't come cheap but he hadn't really imagined it could cost as much as it did. He didn't know why he'd taken so long to start panicking but he guessed it had to do with shopping for the mattress this evening and finally realizing that they were, in fact, moving at the end of the month and leaving their old home for a new one. And, as excited as he was about their new house, he was scared. He just hoped Brian wouldn't figure it out.

Returning with the milk in hand, Brian delivered it to Justin, dropped off his robe, and crawled back beneath the covers. At the face Justin made, he said, "Drink up. But sip it. It's pretty hot."

"It's supposed to be warm."

"I know but I started to drift off and it overheated."

"Thanks."

Not satisfied with Justin's answer to his earlier questions, Brian laid on his side and watched the teen sip the milk. "So, what's up? And don't say nothing. We both know it's something."

"I was thinking about the house," confessed Justin.

"Thinking about decorating it," teased Brian.

"Actually, I was thinking about how much it costs."

"Baby…"

"I know it's too late."

"It's never too late. But I'd probably lose most of the earnest money I put up if we pulled out now." Which he had no intention of doing whatsoever.

"I don't want to pull out but I don’t want you working all the time either to pay for it."

"I won't be. I came home tonight at a decent hour, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"So I feel… guilty."

"Why?" he asked although he knew the answer.

"Because I know you did this for me."

"I did this for us." He'd fallen in love with the house just as much as Justin had.

"I want to help."

"You are helping. You're taking care of the decorating and the wedding plans…"

"I mean help financially."

"You can. Those six portraits Kenneth wants, do them and charge him an arm and a leg for them."

As if it were so easy. "I can't get started until you find time to sit for them."

"You mean you don't know what I look like by now?"

Justin nudged him with his foot and took another sip of his milk, frowned, and set the cup on the night table. "It'll be better if you sit for the preliminary sketches."

Giving up, Brian said, "All right. This weekend. You can have me Saturday or Sunday. All day. For as long as you want."

"For anything that I want?" asked Justin slyly and he stroked Brian's thigh.

"To sketch my portrait," Brian clarified.

"Pookie…"

"Go to sleep." Brian turned over and closed his eyes and hoped that Justin would fall asleep soon because he was pooped and the last thing he wanted to do was to have sex. Again. 

 

Raising a hand to Mikey as he entered the office, Brian hit a few keystrokes and closed out his file. "Hey, Mikey."

"Hey. Where are we eating?"

"Here. I ordered Chinese."

"Cool." He started to take a seat across from Brian but the man shook his head and directed him to the sofa and coffee table.

Brian sat in one of the armchairs and crossed his legs. Watched Michael settle into the sofa and sit uncomfortably, aware of his scrutiny. "So what's wrong?"

"Who said anything was wrong?"

"I did. So what is it?"

Conceding that it was probably useless to try and lie about his feelings, Michael said, "I think you're making a mistake about the house."

"It's a great house."

"How much are you paying for it?"

"What does it matter?"

"How much?"

"Eight hundred thousand dollars." If you couldn't tell your best friend, who could you tell?

Michael's eyes almost sprang from their sockets. "Eight hundred thousand dollars?" He forced himself to close his mouth momentarily, then he asked, "Are you insane?"

"It's worth every penny."

"Brian?" Mikey sat forward, then sat back and shook his head. "I know you own part of a company now but, Christ, that's almost a million dollars."

"Guess what? I can dress myself and I can count too."

"Did Justin talk you into this?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" This was not going the way he'd planned.

"That he seemed mighty excited about moving."

"And why shouldn't he be? I'm excited too."

But Michael had seen the look in Brian's eye too, same as Justin, and he knew that wasn't all. "More like panicked."

"I can handle it."

"By doing what? Working eighty hours a week instead of sixty?"

"I like to work." It was true, he did like to work, didn't mind putting in extra hours.

"You're gonna kill yourself just so Justin gets to live in his dream house?"

"One, I'm not killing myself and two, what is up with you and Justin?"

That was a loaded question and Brian knew it. "Nothing."

"Then why are you laying all of this shit on him?"

"I'm not. I'm voicing my concerns."

"That what? That Justin's using me to get a house?"

"That he probably talked you into it."

"He actually tried to talk me out of it." Truth was, Justin would have been satisfied staying in the loft if there had been room for Gus.

That was unexpected. "You should have listened to him."

"It's done now." He uncrossed his legs and looked Michael dead in the eye. "And I don't want you bringing any of this up with Justin, you understand?"

"Afraid he'll feel guilty?"

" He makes me happy and I don't care if I have to pay every fucking penny of that money by myself."

"Which is why you're getting married, I suppose." He hadn't meant to bring it up but now that he had, he knew there'd be no turning back.

Shaking his head, Brian said, "So what's the problem with us getting married?"

Still, he tried to shut down the conversation before it got out of hand. "Nothing."

"Then you won't mind being my best man."

"I don’t mind."

"Wow, could you say that again with less enthusiasm?" Standing, Brian rubbed his chin and walked about for a moment. "I guess I can't do anything right according to you."

"Brian—"

"I thought you'd be happy for me." He sat again and looked down at his hands.

Softly, Michael said, "I'm scared for you."

"Why?" Brian asked, looking up once more.

"Because he's only nineteen, Brian."

"He'll be twenty in less than two weeks."

"So what? It's a lot to ask of a twenty-year-old. To help pay for a house, to help raise your son." God, he hadn't been able to do it with David and he was thirty-one, for Christ's sake.

"He's my partner."

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"He's not going to hurt me."

That was almost worth a laugh. "So Xavier was just a figment of our imaginations?"

"Fuck you, Mikey," he said and he stood and walked towards one of the windows looking out on downtown Pittsburgh.

Michael followed him. "None of the others will say anything but I'm not gonna pretend like it didn't happen."

"I know that it happened. I don’t need you to remind me."

"Then act like it."

"What am I supposed to do? Punish him for the rest of our lives? Punish myself? What?"

"Maybe you should be careful." Which was like asking a rhinoceros not to charge: it went against his nature. Yet, it was Michael's nature to worry, and so he did.

"And I've never made any mistakes? I'm just a helpless victim waiting for Justin to spring his latest trick on me?" If so, they would have never separated this fall but they'd both made their share of fuck-ups.

"You think he's really ready to settle down?"

"I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think he was. I wouldn't trust my son's life to him if I didn't. He saved my life, Michael. I can't ever forget that."

"He put your life in danger in the first place." And Michael wondered if he'd ever really forgiven Justin for that. It still frightened him and made him angry that Brian had been so close to dying. "Don't forget that either."

"What's this really about?"

"I told you."

"No, there's more. There's a reason why you've suddenly decided to tear Justin down and I wanna know what it is." Fuck. Things had been going so well. Michael had seemed to have accepted Justin, despite their troubles in spring and now this.

There was nothing he could say to change Brian's mind, so what was the point? "You know what? You do what you want and I'll stand by you when you get married and make a toast to the happy couple."

"No.” Michael looked shocked. "You won't. Not if you feel this way about us being together." Before Michael could reply, Cynthia knocked at the door and came in with their order. Set it on the coffee table. "Thanks."

"Enjoy." Went back out again.

Brian watched Michael struggle with his decision. Waited for him to respond.

"If that's how you feel," Michael said, "then I guess I won't."

Brian took a deep breath before speaking. "I never thought I'd be getting married without you standing next to me." Too late the double meaning of his words came to him.

Neither did I, Michael thought but out loud he said, "Your decision," and he turned and exited the office before Brian could see the tears in his eyes.

Making his way to his desk, Brian sat in a stupor while his order cooled. After a while, he got up and put the food away in the mini-fridge and then prepared to go meet Jennifer and the prospective buyers for the loft. 

 

Well, they were straight all right. Jesus, breeders in the loft. He hoped the apartment didn't do an Amityville Horror on them and run them out. Of course, once the check cleared, he didn't give a crap what happened. Only, that wasn't quite true. He was selling the loft. After all these years, selling his home, his first real home. He remembered moving into the loft, into that big, empty space, raring to fill it with only the best furniture. And he had, he'd turned it into a showcase. One that would belong to someone else at the end of the month. Even now, it felt like he was losing a part of himself. Which was stupid, it was only an apartment, a place.

His place. For so long, it had defined who he was. It had been part of his image, the sleek, minimalist loft to go along with the sleek, designer look he affected personally. Even after Justin had moved in, his presence hadn't really changed the look of the place. There were more colors now, because of his things but it was still fundamentally the same. Now, they would be decorating a house together, making decisions, compromising.

Compromising. Not something he did well. But just as his experiences with Justin had taught him faith, and his experiences with Gus had taught him patience, he believed this experience would probably teach him how to compromise. Or so he hoped.

And what had today's experiences with Michael taught him?

That you could never be too sure of anything in this world. Which was not something you wanted to think about a month away from being married.

 

 

Picking the phone up for the third time, Justin dialed Nana Rose's number, waited for either her or Xavier to pick up. Hoped it'd be her cause she would help get Xavier on his side. Four rings and he was about to hang up when

"Hello?"

He exhaled. "Hey, Nana Rose. It's—"

"Justin! Baby, how are you? Thank you for my present. It's beautiful."

The scarf he'd bought her in London, he'd sent it home with Xavier for Christmas. "You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

"I love it. You have a good Christmas?"

"Got a car."

"You had a great Christmas!"

"Anniversary too."

"So you wanna talk to Xavier?"

"In a minute. I've got some news."

"Oh?"

She seemed apprehensive, he could hear it in her voice. "Good news. Brian and I are moving."

"To another state?"

"Another house." He smiled. "And we're getting married."

"Married?"

Nana Rose sounded just like Deb when she got excited. Voice rose about an octave on the end. "Yep. Next month. The fifteenth. Can you come?"

"Try and stop me from being there. My God, married. And a new house. You having the ceremony there?"

"Uh-huh. There's this huge entry hall, we're gonna have it right there."

"Well, I am so excited for you, baby. How's His Big and Badness doing?" She'd picked up Xavier and Rennie's habit of calling him that.

"He's doing okay. I'm waiting for him to come home from work now."

"I cannot wait to see you two in your tuxes. Let me write that down right now. February fifteenth."

"You'll get an invitation sometime next week."

"I'm happy for you, baby. Now, you take care. Hold on, I'm getting Xavier."

He heard her put down the phone and call Xavier. _Just breathe_ , he told himself. 

"J?"

"Hey."

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to call to see if Nana Rose could come to the wedding."

"What wedding?"

"Mine and Brian's." He waited a moment. "It's next month. In our new house."

"You found a house?"

"Yep. Moving at the end of the month."

Xavier paused before speaking and in that short time Justin had cursed himself a thousand times for even thinking that Xavier could be happy for him. "You need help moving?"

Justin closed his eyes. Opened them. "Maybe. And some help decorating."

"You got it."

"Thanks, Xavier. You think Trey might come?"

Xavier's voice sounded lighter when he spoke. "Definitely."

"Then everything's going okay?"

"I think so." He smiled and Justin could see it in his mind. "He just might be around for a while."

Justin laughed because at times like that, Xavier reminded him of Brian so much. "Cocky, aren't we?"

"Damn skippy. I got the goods."

Laughing again, Justin shook his head. "Well, Mr. Goods, I'll see you when you get back."

"Next week."

"See you later."

"Later, J."

As he replaced the receiver, he whispered, "Thank you," to his friend even though Xavier had already hung up because he knew that, somehow, Xavier would know. They had a connection and as long as they did, everything would be all right. 

 

At first he thought he'd leave Brian alone, hoping that he'd tell him what was bothering him but finally he couldn't wait any longer and he asked, "What's wrong?" It couldn't be the house because Brian had come home and told him that Jennifer had found buyers for the loft and they were willing to wait until the thirty-first to take possession of the apartment, giving them time to move out once they'd closed on the house. So it had to be Michael.

Brian laid down his fork, not that he'd been using it anyway. Most of his food still remained on his plate. "Mikey's… not gonna be in the wedding."

"What?" Even though he'd guessed that it had something to do with Michael, he hadn't imagined that Michael would refuse Brian.

"He doesn't want to be my best man." Brian got up and carried his plate into the kitchen. There was no point in pretending that he was going to eat anything else.

Justin followed. "What happened?"

"We had an argument," replied Brian and he dumped his food down the disposal and ran it along with the cold water.

"About what?" He couldn’t believe that they'd had a big enough fight to make Michael opt out of the wedding.

"Doesn't matter."

"The fuck it doesn't. Your best friend won't be in the wedding and you say it doesn't matter?"

"I said what we argued about doesn't matter."

"And I say that it does." He waited until Brian had loaded the plate in the dishwasher. "What did you argue about?"

Weighing telling the truth against hurting Justin's feelings, Brian decided to come clean. "About you."

"What about me?" he asked although immediately after he did so, he knew. Michael didn't think he was up to being Brian's partner despite having been his partner for a year now. "He doesn't think I'm good enough for you, does he?"

"Justin…"

"Does he?"

"He's concerned."

A white hot heat flashed over Justin. "That I'm gonna go out and screw Xavier again? Or maybe I'll find someone new? Maybe I'll bring him home and screw him in the guestroom while you're sleeping. No, wait, you won't be home. You'll be at the office slaving away for me. I bet he said that too, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

Justin returned to the table and picked up his plate and carried it into the kitchen, his appetite lost too. Once he'd disposed of the remains of his meal, he put the plate in the dishwasher as well and slammed it closed, furious. "Fuck him. He had no right to say those things. I don't care if he is your best friend. He doesn't know shit about us."

"Baby—"

"Besides which, he's just jealous. Because I have you and he doesn't."

"That's not true, Justin."

"Don’t lie to yourself. And don't lie to me because I know the truth. I know that he loves you. He always has and he always will. And all the Davids and Jeffs in the world won't change that."

"I'm not leaving you for him." _I'm not leaving you for anyone._

"Which doesn't stop him from wanting you to."

Brian gave a half-laugh. "I never thought he would let me down. Never in a million years." He walked away from the kitchen and into the bedroom, leaving Justin alone. 

 

Justin's anger accompanied him to work where he banged and slammed his way through breakfast and was just about to be on the receiving end of a good tongue-lashing from Deb when Michael appeared. Cutting his eyes at the man, Justin made a point of ignoring him even though Michael sat down at one of his tables.

Deb raised a brow, then went to greet her son. "Hey, honey."

"Hey, Ma."

"You meeting Jeff here?"

"No. He's out on a story."

"Well," she said, "this is Justin's table but I don't think he's coming over to take your order. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Not really." Cause somehow she'd find a way to make it his fault and then there'd be another pop on the head. Or worse. That look she gave him when she was disappointed in him, that said he'd hurt her more than words could say.

"Then you wanna tell me what you want to eat?" She'd learned how to bide her time.

"Eggs over easy and a couple pieces of bacon."

"Coming right up." She put in his order, then caught Justin by the sleeve. "You missed a table."

"No, I didn't."

"O-kay. You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"No."

Her patience ran out. "Well, somebody better tell me something goddamn quick."

Justin pointed a finger at Michael. "Why don't you ask him why he refused to be Brian's best man?"

"You what?" she asked Michael.

"I didn't refuse. He didn't want me." Which was technically true.

"And why was that?" yelled Justin.

"Hey," said Deb, "tone it down. What the fuck is going on?"

"Michael's being an asshole."

"Fuck you."

"Well, you've already tried to fuck me over, so why not?"

"I was looking out for my friend."

"And all you did was to make him miserable. Satisfied? I hope you are. I hope you're real happy with yourself. Fuckin' asshole."

Michael stood and neared Justin and Deb managed to position herself between them just in case. "You think you know everything, you think you know Brian, but you don't. You don't know shit about him. I've known him half my life."

"And he still chose me," said Justin. "And that just burns you up. I thought you understood. I thought you were finally getting over it but you weren't. You were just waiting for the right time to kick him in the teeth."

"I would never hurt Brian."

"Well, you did. You did hurt him. So congratulations." Justin untied his apron and threw it down. "I'm going for a walk," he announced and without further ado, he left.

Deb waited until he was gone to pop Michael in the back of the head. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Looking out for Brian." He returned to his seat with his mother right behind him.

"By telling him Justin's no good for him? You know what they've been through. I would think you'd be the first person to want to see Brian happy."

"I do."

"Justin makes him happy. Happier than he's ever been in his entire life. I know you have feelings for Brian, I've always known that, but I thought you'd want to do what's right by him."

"I—"

"You're letting him down, Michael. And you're letting yourself down too. You think about that. Think about what you'd be missing if you broke off things with Brian. Then decide if that's what you really want." Seeing that his order was ready, she went and got it and put it on his table. "Enjoy." 

 

Not in the mood to look at furniture, they decided to go to the movies to escape the world for a while. Hoping that the crowds would be less now that the holidays were over, they headed out to see Lord of the Rings and prayed that they'd get tickets. They were in luck, it seemed to be a slow night, the theatre was only half-full. Finding seats in the area dividing the middle level from the top level, they were able to secure some privacy away from the giggling teenagers and pontificating geeks who'd probably read the books a hundred times—before there was ever a rumor of a movie. Brian had read them too as a teenager at the insistence of Mikey. They'd planned on seeing the trilogy together and had seen Fellowship of the Ring together (after he and Justin had seen it first). He didn't think they'd be seeing The Two Towers installment in one another's company any time soon though.

He still couldn't believe it, that Mikey had said all those things about Justin. He'd really believed that Michael had come around, had accepted Justin as his partner. What a fool he'd been. And Michael had no right, had no right to try and dictate to him. No one did. He made his own decisions and he had decided that where he belonged was with Justin, no matter what. That Justin had made mistakes, he admitted that. So had he. They'd both probably make a buttload more too before it was over. Which, if he had anything to do with it, wouldn't be for a very, very long time. 'til death do us part. Brian sighed and shifted in his seat, anxious for the film to begin and to take his mind off of things.

"Want some?" Justin asked, extending the bag of popcorn. Brian shook his head and picked up his bottled water, sipped it. "I hope they don't show too many sneak-previews before the movie. I hate waiting."

"Me too."

Unfortunately, not only did they have to watch a bunch of sneak previews, they also had to watch commercials.

"I hate fuckin' commercials at the movies," complained Brian which Justin thought was funny since Brian was in the business of making commercials.

They both laughed at the trailer for Bruce Almighty although Brian personally loathed Jim Carrey. "He was the worst fucking Riddler ever." And he surprised Justin by actually liking the Bad Boys trailer and singing the song along with Martin Lawrence and Will Smith. "Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do? What you gonna do when they come for you?" he whispered in Justin's ear.

"Give up," the teen replied and turned his head ever so slightly and kissed Brian ever so softly.

"What movie did you see the other day?" Brian asked since Justin had never said.

"I can't remember," he replied.

Which immediately made Brian suspicious. "You saw this, didn't you?"

"No," Justin denied. "We promised to see it together, remember? Popcorn?"

Brian refused again and sat back in his seat, not quite convinced of Justin's innocence. And then the movie started and he didn't care. Transfixed by the action on the screen, he forgot about everything else, even his fight with Mikey. It was magnificent. Several times he was aware of holding his breath, sitting literally on the edge of his seat, muscles jerking as he fought alongside Aragorn in a battle that seemed never-ending. When the sun rose and the Calvary appeared on the ridge of the hill, arrayed behind Gandalf the White, he breathed easier, relieved that help had, at last, come.

Then the house lights came up and their sojourn in Middle Earth was over. They were the only people left in the theatre other than the ushers who had begun cleaning. "Next year?" asked Brian ruefully.

"Next year. But then we can stay all day and watch all three. You just know someone's gonna do that, show all of them one after the other."

Brian nodded. "It'll be sweet."

"Trash," said the usher, coming up next to them. Justin tossed in the wadded up popcorn bag. "So was it just as good the second time around?" the usher asked.

Damn! It was the same guy. They should have gone to another theatre, it wasn't like it was only showing at this one. Idiot. Feeling Brian's eyes on him but not daring to turn around, Justin replied meekly, "Better actually."

"Cool." The guy moved on leaving wreckage behind him.

Saying nothing, Brian rose and walked down the steps, Justin trailing behind him.

_I am so not getting any tonight._

And he was right. Brian steadfastly refused any and all overtures to make love despite having accepted his apology for seeing the film without him the first time. He wasn't nasty about it, he just turned Justin down. Claiming exhaustion. Which Justin bought since the man fell fast asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. _He really was tired_ , he said to himself, watching Brian sleep. _He's working too hard_. But there was nothing he could do about it other than to continue to press Brian to take it easier, to leave things for tomorrow, to take care of himself. In the end, all he could really do was to take care of his partner the best he could. 

Sliding closer to Brian, Justin slipped an arm around his waist and held him, feeling his lover shift just a little and settle back against him. 

 

Since the guys had had Gus the previous weekend, the Munchers had decided to keep the toddler this time around which suited Brian just fine as he really wasn't in the mood to try and keep up with a two-going-on-three-year old. Besides, Justin had a full weekend planned for them. One, he was going to work on Kenneth's commission and two, they had at least two showrooms to visit and a plethora of websites to browse. Armed with the measurements for the master bedroom as well as all the others, Justin and Joanie had gone through and identified possible purchases. In addition, Brian needed to talk to a contractor about doing some redesign work on the master bath to accommodate them. But that would wait until next week. After he and Justin and Joanie had gotten together and planned what the new bathroom would look like.

"We saw these snail showers online, they looked really cool."

"Snail showers?"

"Yeah," replied Justin. "They don't have any doors. You walk around a wall to an opening."

"Why do they call them snail showers?"

Justin drew on a sheet of paper. "See? Cause the shape of the outside is like a snail shell. It goes around and curves in."

"Mmm."

"Most of the time, the walls without the plumbing are made of glass blocks."

"Sounds interesting."

"I downloaded some pictures online so you could see what they look like."

"So efficient."

"When are you talking to the contractors?"

"Next week. Cynthia set up a meeting for Wednesday. Give us some time to come up with some rough ideas."

"I thought the bathroom was your baby." He'd known that eventually Brian would want his help.

"It is, but you're going to be using it too so I figured you should get a tiny say so in the matter."

"Just a tiny one?" Well, guess he'd been fooled. Maybe.

"Uh-huh. You got the room measurements?"

"Yep."

"And the shower measurements?"

"Let's see." He looked on the page. "There it is. Schematics."

"Sweet. And Cynthia got the dimensions of the tub and the other stuff."

"Here's the grid your mom gave me. She drew in where the doors are and everything."

"I'm impressed."

"She's really good."

"Okay, so we could put the shower here and the tub goes here." Brian drew them onto the grid in pencil.

"By the windows?"

"Yep. So we can bathe by moonlight." The way they had in Venice, listening to the water lap against the piers and foundations, distracting you from the fact that you were sinking along with the city.

"Romantic." The phantom moonlight in his mind brushed a smile across his face as he imagined them weeks in the future, buffered by bubbles, tea lights in bowls set upon the window ledge.

"I thought so."

"You're not careful, I might start to believe that you actually do have a soft and squishy side."

"Shut up. So what do you think about putting up a partitioning wall here and attaching the toilet, and the bidet to it? Put the vanity table right next to them." He indicated an area about midway between the shower and the tub.

"That's different."

"Saw a modified version online. Using Starck stuff." And he'd liked it. He had no idea why they'd need a wall right there but he wanted one.

"Hey!" said Justin. I could paint some trompe l'oeil on it. Like we saw in Italy." It'd be less trouble to do a little wall than to try and paint the entire bathroom.

"Trompe l'oeil of what?"

He shrugged. "Maybe Roman columns and ruins, something like that. Vines entwined about the rocks or something. Or the colonnade at Hadrian's villa. That would go with the loggia arches and columns."

"Sounds… interesting." He would get his Roman bath after all. "Draw it up and let me see."

Justin leaned in and kissed Brian soundly on the mouth.

"What was that for?"

"Just because."

Raising a brow, Brian said, "Decorating obviously makes you horny."

"Later," said Justin. "I want you to look at these armoires for the bedroom. And we need to pick out night stands and lamps and stuff."

Hours later they'd made a list of things they definitely kinda thought they wanted. Brian didn't even want to add it up but he did and blew out a stream of breath. Although they'd have over a hundred thousand dollars left over from the sale of the loft, minus a substantial ten percent down payment on the house, they were probably going to spend at least thirty thousand on the bathroom renovation. Which left them with around eighty thousand dollars. Most of which was going to be spent decorating the house and what was left would go to the wedding. Just the thought of all that money leaving his hands made him feel very dizzy. He propped his head in his hand and hoped Justin didn't notice. Yeah, right.

"What?"

He glanced at the clock on the computer. "Lunch. I feel a little lightheaded."

Kissing him on the top of the head, Justin rose. "I think there's enough stuff for a Caesar salad."

With Justin gone, Brian went over his finances on a spreadsheet he kept on the computer. He and Ted definitely needed to have a talk. 

 

From the moment he put on the burnt sienna sweater, his skin started to tingle. It always made him feel incredibly sexy to slip it on, but to be completely naked except for the sweater was almost immediately arousing. He remembered coming home from Into the Woods and having Justin slide his hands up underneath it, desperate to touch him, to have him. And he'd let him. Had leaned against the countertop, face cooled by the mirror, and had let the teen fuck him. He could still feel Justin's cum as it splattered his bare back, the sweater pushed up over his shoulders. Risking a glance downwards, he was surprised that he wasn't already hard. Which was good as he had a few hours of lying motionless ahead of him. Shifting gears inside his head, he put away all thoughts of sex and concentrated on nothing except remaining absolutely still.

Two hours later, he heard the scrape of the bar stool being put back in place and opened his eyes. The teen was standing at the head of the chaise lounge where he lay. "Through?" he asked and Justin replied, "Um-hm," and those were the last words they spoke for a while as they gave into the desire they'd both been feeling, succumbing to the influence of the burnt sienna sweater.

When Justin pulled it over his head, trapping his arms in place, he was momentarily alarmed but then the idea of being bound, of being helpless even as Justin rode his cock increased his arousal.

Feeling the teen's dick pressing against his navel sent him spiraling towards ecstasy. His panting caused the sweater to rise upwards sharply and then to sink just as sharply against his mouth. He was aware of Justin standing and then he smelled the scent of cum as the teen ejaculated on his sweater-covered face. Afterwards, he lay supine upon the seat of the lounge, head still concealed by the sweater, and fought the urge to scream as Justin jacked him off.

As they kissed through the barrier of the sweater, their cum soaking the strands and wetting his face, Brian shivered. No one made him feel the way Justin did, helpless yet strong.

"I love you," the teen whispered and slowly uncovered his face. "I love you," he said again, blue eyes gazing into hazel, and kissed him once more. "I love you," he said for the third and final time as if he were chanting an incantation.

Closing him in an embrace, he held Justin tightly, the beat of his heart and the strength in his arms saying what his lips could not, weaving a spell as tightly as any words had ever cast. 

 

Having fixed a couple of steaks, they sat at the table and ate by candlelight.

Justin could imagine them in the solarium eating by starlight, a couple of slender tapers on the table. "So," he said, "we probably should start thinking about music and flowers and stuff for the wedding."

"But I thought…" Brian paused. "Oh, you mean, you've got some ideas you want to run past me."

"Do you mind?"

He shook his head. "Gotta get it done. The wedding's in a month."

"Exactly," agreed Justin.

One month. And they had to clear out of the loft, move into the house, and try to maintain some semblance of normalcy at the same time. He wished he could take some time off from work but they'd just come back from the holidays and he had to monitor a couple of new campaigns that seemed shaky already. So taking time off was out of the question. "So what's first?"

"What are we wearing?"

"I'm guessing tuxedos?"

"So smart," he said smiling. "What kind?"

"Something different," Brian replied. "And no bow ties. I hate bow ties." Hence his wearing one to the prom and not tying it.

"Should we wear the same kind of tux or different?"

"The same. It'll look classier."

"What about—" He paused abruptly.

"What about what?"

"About…" Justin looked down. "Your best man?"

"Maybe I'll do like you and get Lindsay to do it."

"But Lindsay's not your best friend. And I thought maybe she and Mel could be the wedding directors, keep things on track during the ceremony. I'd ask Deb but she'll be too busy making sure her mascara isn't running."

"Well, Mel might have to do it by herself." Because he and Michael still hadn't resolved things. Hadn't even tried.

"Why don’t you talk to him?"

"And say what? 'It's okay that you think I'm making a huge mistake, why don’t you be my best man anyway?' "

"Can we call them something else?" Off the topic but on his mind.

"Like what?" To his credit, Brian kept up with the change.

"Like Grooms' Attendants."

"I don’t care."

"Brian. Talk to him." Back to the previous topic.

"What's next?" He had no intention of wasting any more time at the moment discussing Mikey.

Used to Brian dismissing topics out of hand, Justin moved on. They'd come back to it eventually. "What kind of tux should the ushers wear?"

"Something nice but not too nice. I don't want us to be upstaged." As if.

"I don't think we will be. I've been thinking. We could wear silver vests and the rest of the guys, " that took care of the niggling problem of Michael for the moment, "could wear dark blue vests since our colors are blue and silver. And the women could all wear silver dresses. Maybe Daphne can find a dress style that she and Molly both could wear. And then our moms can wear whatever styles they want. Your mom and I found some cool sites with mothers of the bride and groom dresses. Tres chic. And my mom knows the best stores. They're going shopping next week. And taking Deb with them."

That was one worry off his shoulders. "What about us?"

"You look around and see what you can find. I trust your taste," joked Justin.

"Oh, so funny." He stopped. "Gus. He needs a tux too."

"I can't wait to see him all dressed up. We gotta get him a ring bearer's pillow with a couple of fake rings on them."

"About the rings, do you think we should wear them on the left or the right?" Who would ever have believed he'd be having this conversation?

"Well, traditionally, couples wear them on the left."

"I've gotten kind of used to wearing it on the right."

"Then we can keep on doing it."

"No. You're right, once we're married, then we're married. We'll wear them on the left so everyone will know." _I'm taken_ , and, more importantly, _**He's taken**_.

"Can you believe it? We're getting married."

He had to derail Justin before he started waxing rhapsodically. "I can believe it. What else?"

"Flowers. Do we want fresh or silk?"

"Which will look better?" That's what counted.

"Well, I think the silk would look just as nice as fresh flowers. Especially at night and with all the other decorations we're putting up. Plus, if we go with artificial flowers, we can get the right color blue."

"And your allergies won't start acting up."

"Exactly. Wouldn’t want to tear up during the ceremony."

"Uh-huh." He chuckled softly. "Sounds good."

"Your mom and I have been looking at sites and we think we can buy the flowers in bulk from this place in town and do the arrangements ourselves."

"All of them? Even the ones on the tables and stuff?" He'd been to a number of weddings and it seemed like a lot of work to do without professional help.

"Yeah. There's only going to be about thirty people there, that's five or six tables at the most. Plus our table. We can do it. Besides, your mom and Lindsay and my mom and Emmett can help make them." Maybe Xavier and Rennie too.

"And I can help decorate when the time comes." Brian nearly looked around to see who had said that.

A smile spread across Justin's face. "You just want to supervise."

Taking the out Justin had given him, Brian agreed. "The smartest person should always be the leader."

"Then that leaves you and Dubuya at the bottom of the totem pole."

"Smartass."

"What do you think about putting flowers around the French doors to the studio?"

"It'd probably look great. We opening the doors?"

"I don’t think so. There won't be anything in there."

"I think the cake and champagne should be in there. We can decorate a table and put up some lights and stuff and it'd look fabulous. Plus, if we don't open the vents in that room, the champagne will stay chilled," laughed Brian.

"That's a fabulous idea," said Justin. "You're good at this."

"I'm an advertiser."

"Presentation is everything," Justin said before he could.

"You have been paying attention. So the doors should probably be closed until we open them to reveal the cake."

"But aren't people supposed to offer toasts at dinner?"

"Who says we have to follow tradition? 'We are the makers of manners,' " he quoted. "Besides, it'll get people up and about before we go out to dance and we can show off the solarium. And if it's chilly in the room, they won't be tempted to toast us forever."

"That's why you win awards. Always thinking."

"Are you trying to butter me up?"

"Is it working?" asked Justin, his mind suddenly on buttering Brian up literally. Wow...

"What else?" Brian had seen the change of expression on Justin's face and wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"We're thinking about having a stand of candles behind the minister and we would all bring in a candle and put one in the candelabra. Everybody except the ushers and Gus and Molly, that is. Seven branches. One for each of our families, two for our friends, and one for each of us. The officiant would bring out the commitment candle and put it in the middle and then our attendants would come out and put in two at the ends and then your mom and my mom would come out and put theirs in and then we would put ours in on either side of the commitment candle. And then at some point in the ceremony, we would use our candles to light the commitment candle."

"So we're going to be carrying lit candles?" Visions of a fiery doom flashed before his eyes.

"Yep, so we'll have to walk very very slow."

"What if I drop mine or something?"

"It's our wedding, we can do what we want, remember?"

"How about we light them after we get up there?"

"You afraid of a little flaming?" he teased.

"No, I'm afraid of immolating myself on my wedding day." That would look good. Flaming poofter goes up in flames. Poof.

"But it'll look so beautiful if we're carrying them."

Brian sighed. "All right."

"Don't worry, I'll be holding your hand, and I'll make sure you don't get nervous and drop anything."

"Uh-huh. And who's going to keep you from getting nervous?"

"You." That's what they did best: support one another.

Brian gave a soft smile. "So what else?"

"Music. I was thinking we could go with classical music during the ceremony and maybe play jazz or something like that during dinner, you know, love songs, show tunes..."

"So what are we going to dance to?" He couldn't see them cutting the rug to Glenn Miller.

"In general, we should mix it up, rock, club music, a few old standards, maybe some disco."

"No, I mean what's our song?"

Their song. "What do you think it should be?" He asked but he already had an idea.

It came to him immediately, the song they had danced to at the prom but he had such mixed feelings about that moment even now that he couldn't suggest it. Not as their song. Maybe they could play it at the wedding but not as their song, not as the first song they'd dance to as partners. Husband and husband. For that they needed a song free of shadows, free of any unpleasant memories. And something sappy. Of that he was certain. For that moment, he knew Justin would want to go all out romantic, just as syrupy sweet as they could stand.

"What about "Save the Last"—"

"No."

"But—" They had danced so beautifully to it, like Fred and Ginger.

"No. Not that song."

"Why not?" He was surprised that Brian even cared.

"Because it should be something that makes us happy to hear it."

"I'm happy to hear it. I'm happy that I'm still alive to hear it."

"I'm not."

"You're not happy I'm alive to hear it?" joked Justin but he could tell that his joke had fallen flat. "Brian?"

"That song makes me think about Chris Hobbs and everything that came after and I can't do it. I can't." Just thinking about it now made his heart race.

"It's okay. I understand." Because it wasn't just Chris Hobbs, it was the trial and him and Xavier and that morning in the loft and almost losing one another. "So we'll pick something else. But what?"

"I guess we'll have to go through our CDs and maybe the DJ'll have some ideas."

"We should use that guy who did our New Year's party."

"Definitely. He was pretty good."

"And pretty."

"Pretty hot." In the old days, he would have definitely done him. Come to think of it, he may have. Maybe that's how he knew him.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry," he said, lying. "He's not my type." Brian thought for a moment. "We should call him next week. He gets booked up really fast."

"Can we start buying stuff now or should we wait until after the closing?"

"Put it on the card. But let me know so I can keep a running total on the spreadsheet." A mounting total of zeros.

" 'kay. We need to find an officiant too to perform the ceremony." That was key.

"Lotta gay religious groups in town." Always trying to get him to come to service. As if he would. Not unless they held it at Babylon's or Woody's.

"Does it matter if it's a woman?" He'd seen a list and thought one of them was headed by a woman.

"I don't care."

Next thing. "Guest list."

"Not tonight, Baby." He was bushed. "We can hash that out when the invitations get back."

" 'kay."

Thinking Justin was done with him for the moment, Brian began to clear the table, his movement slow as if he lacked energy to move any faster.

"You all right?" Justin asked.

"Just tired, that's all."

"Then leave that stuff. I'll get it. Go lie down." He had to take care of his Pookie.

"I'm not an old man yet," snapped Brian.

Justin held up his hands in mock-surrender. "Sorry."

"I'm sorry." He paused, intending to continue clearing the table and then decided that if they were going to be married, they'd have to learn to share their problems and not keep them bottled up inside. "I just can't believe Mikey's not coming to the wedding."

"He'll be there. Just because he's not in the wedding doesn't mean he won't come altogether."

"He may not."

"Why don't you talk to him?"

"Because he doesn't want to talk to me. And I don't know what I'd say to him anyway."

Excuses. "How about you tell him that you miss him?"

"Maybe by then I won't," Brian said and he carried their plates into the kitchen and began to load them into the dishwasher.

Justin debated helping him and figured he'd been rebuffed once already tonight, why push his luck? Brian didn't need his help. 

 

Curious when they told him that a Justin Taylor was there to see him, Jeff put away the story he was working on and waited for the teenager to appear. Which he did in a few moments.

"Hey."

"Come on in. Have a seat."

Justin closed the door behind him and sat across the desk from Jeff. He'd never been inside a TV studio before and it had been difficult not to gawk on his way in. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"I can always use a break from work. Don't tell my boss. He thinks I'm a workaholic. Actually, I'm just efficient. So what's up?"

Not sure if this was a good idea, he forged ahead anyway. Something had to be done. It'd been four days since Brian and Michael had argued and neither showed any signs of leaning towards a reconciliation although he knew Brian wanted to reconcile with his best friend. "I think we need to do something about Brian and Michael."

Throwing up his hands, Jeff disagreed. "I think we should leave them alone." Both times he'd tried to bring up the subject with Michael, the man had shut him down cold. He was not about to attempt a third, futile discussion.

"If we leave it to them, they'll behave like children and never speak to each other again."

"They'll speak to each other again. That's how best friends are." That's how he and his best friend were. Too bad Kurt lived so far away now.

"Not if Michael stays out of the wedding. Brian won't ever forgive him that."

Risking it, Jeff said, "He's forgiven worse from you."

"We're partners. He'll take shit from me that he would never take from anyone else," Justin confessed. "Including Michael."

Jeff leaned back in his chair and contemplated Justin's words. "Maybe it's for the best," he said finally. "Maybe this friendship has run its course."

"He loves Brian."

"I know that."

"No, I mean—"

"I understand," Jeff said. "I'm a reporter. I'd be a damn poor one if I hadn't noticed that Michael's feelings for Brian go a lot deeper than just friendship."

"That bother you?"

He shrugged. "Maybe, in the beginning, when I thought we had a chance for something more."

"You don't think that anymore?" He guessed Michael must have been right about the change in their relationship.

"I'm not holding my breath waiting for it to happen. If it does, fine. If it doesn't, I'll live." Which sounded a bit callous, but it was the truth.

Xaver had said much the same about him and Trey. At first. Now, he was singing a different tune. "I could never live without Brian," Justin admitted softly.

"Which is why you're partners. But I can live without Michael and Michael can survive without Brian, if he tried. Maybe that's what he needs now. To be without Brian, to learn how to be on his own. Maybe we'd have a chance without Brian in the picture."

But Justin shook his head. "If your relationship can't survive Brian, then you're fooling yourself. The worst thing that ever happened to me and Brian was Xavier but we survived it and because we did, we know that we can survive anything. No matter what, somehow we find a way." He thought of the letter Brian had written him after he'd left him in November and had known that the old Brian, the pre-Xavier Brian wouldn't have been capable of writing that letter. They'd passed through fire and had been strengthened by it.

"Then why does Brian need Michael, if he's got you?"

Brian had tried to explain it to him, in the Bahamas: "Having Michael as a best friend... means I get to have you as everything else." "Because," explained Justin, "we all need someone on the outside, to help give us perspective. Like me and Daphne. She's known me almost all of my life. I feel like I can tell her anything and she'll understand and even if it means kicking my ass, she won't lie to me. Sometimes you need someone who'll say no to you. That's what best friends do."

"But she's not in love with you."

"She thought she was. Once. She loves me. Just like Michael loves Brian."

"But it's different because Michael's in love with Brian."

Justin disagreed. "No, he isn't. It's just body stuff mixed in with the love. That's what tripped me and Daphne up. The body stuff. We slept together and all of a sudden she thought it was more than it was. But we worked it out."

"So what are you saying? That Michael and Brian should just fuck and get it over with and then move on?" Which was what he'd thought more than once.

"Maybe if it had happened, Michael would have moved on. But it's too late now."

Jeff knew that Brian was faithful to Justin but then again his idea of faithfulness wasn't your normal definition. "Brian wouldn’t do it now?"

"I wouldn’t let him."

"Not even to save his friendship with Michael?"

Justin shook his head. "If it's finished, then it's finished and Brian will get over it. I want him to be happy but I'm not stupid."

Taking stock of the young man, Jeff agreed. "No, you're not. You're a good person."

"So are you."

Jeff grinned. "And as a good person, I'll do what's right and talk to Michael? That it?"

Justin stood. "It's up to you. My job is to take care of Brian." 

 

He'd been in the middle of looking over some reports when Lindsay called saying Gus wanted to see his daddies. Since they hadn't kept him that past weekend and wouldn't be keeping him the upcoming weekend or the weekend after that, Brian had agreed to come over and spend the evening with them. "No Scrabble though," he'd told her, remembering the whipping he and Justin had received on one of the other Family Nights they'd spent together.

Calling Justin on the cell and finding him at Joanie's place, he'd invited her to come along too but she'd begged off saying she had a lot of work to do on the plans for the house and the wedding.

Instead of both of them driving, Brian drove home and parked the Jeep and waited for Justin to pick him up. Which gave him time to go upstairs and change clothes, putting on something he could roll around on the floor in since Gus invariably wanted to play hobby horse or cars or something which required him to get down on his knees.

He couldn't wait until Gus' birthday this year when he'd be old enough for the Baby Jeep Brian had been threatening to buy him for the past year and a half. He could just see Gus tooling around the yard in that baby. Gus loved his daddy's Jeep and Brian just knew he'd love having one of his own. And then, for Christmas, he planned on giving Gus his old Tonka dump truck. As much as he wouldn’t admit it to Justin, he was going to miss that thing. Maybe he would give it to Gus but they'd keep it at their house, so that Gus would have some toys there too and wouldn't have to cart everything between houses. God, that was going to be crazy, coordinating weekends and maybe even some weeks in the summer and maybe even during the year. And it would only get stickier down the road once Gus started kindergarten in a couple of years. But, at least Lindsay and Mel were willing to discuss it which was more than he'd thought they'd ever do. Of course, the fact that he even wanted to discuss it was the biggest surprise of all.

He was just buttoning up a white shirt over his black tank top when Justin slid open the door. "Hey."

"Hey."

Justin threw down his bag and came into the bedroom, kissed him and plopped down on the bed. "Ready?"

"Just about." He sat to put on his boots. "Get a lot done today?"

"A little. I worked on the portrait some too."

"When's school start again?" Justin had told him before but in the midst of all the other things he had to think about and remember, he'd forgotten.

"Next week."

"You ready?"

"Can't stop it from starting again."

"That's not the answer I was looking for."

"Well, it's the only one I've got." Forestalling a discussion, Justin added, "Things will get back to normal after the wedding."

"But almost a month of the semester will have gone by."

Standing, Justin kissed Brian again. "I'll be all right. Come on, Gus is waiting and I'm starving. What's for dinner?"

"Lindz didn't say. I hope it's not garlic chicken. Last time I could smell it on my breath for a week afterwards. And taste it for two."

"Three," said Justin cause he'd had to taste it as well. "Anyway, I don’t care what it is as long as I don't have to cook it."

"Oh? This coming from the man with the gourmet kitchen? Bake oven, Aga cooker, warming drawers, cooktop with a grill…"

"I'm just tired, that's all. Between combing through wedding books, working on the portrait, and looking at flowers at the craft store, I'm beat."

"You wanna stay home tonight? We can order in and do this another night."

"Gus would have a hissy fit."

"He'll get over it."

Justin didn't think so. "Besides, I wanna see him too. I'll be fine. I'm just glad I don't have to cook, that's all. Ready?"

"Yeah. You driving?"

"My car."

Brian popped Justin on the butt and dashed out of the room before Justin could retaliate.

"You'll pay," the teen warned.

"Just bring it on, little boy." 

 

Gus was waiting at the door for his daddies to arrive. Lindsay and Mel couldn't get him to sit down at all so they just left him alone—and made sure the door was locked. Showing more patience than normal, he stood in the doorway for at least ten minutes until he saw the headlights of the Cherokee. "Daddy!" he yelled and when neither Mama nor Mommy came, he ran to the kitchen and shouted again, "Daddy!"

"Yippee." Mel rose. "All right, keep your pants on." She followed the toddler to the door and unlocked it just as Brian and Justin arrived on the front porch.

"Daddy!" Gus pushed open the door and reached for Brian who picked him up and kissed him soundly.

"Hey, Sonny Boy."

Justin kissed him over Brian's shoulder. "Hey, Gus."

"Hey, Daddy."

Following Melanie into the house, Brian set Gus down on his feet. Immediately, Gus tugged on Brian's hand and demanded that his daddy follow him up to his room. He waved to Justin. "See ya later."

Mel shook her head. "It's amazing how children gravitate towards other children."

Justin laughed. "He just misses Brian, that's all."

Coming out of the kitchen, Lindsay kissed Justin on the cheek. "You sure you don't want to take him this weekend?"

"We would except that it's my birthday so we're gonna be kinda busy."

"Both days?" she asked.

"If I'm lucky," he grinned. "Actually, we'll probably spend it mailing off invitations for the wedding, talking to caterers, and picking out the cake."

"And the weekend after?"

"Our last weekend before the big move."

"And the weekend after that you'll be moving. And the next weekend you'll be getting ready for the wedding. And the weekend after that you're getting married." finished Mel.

Aware of how it was beginning to sound, Justin said, "It's just a bad time, that's all. But once we're settled in, he can come over whenever he wants."

"I know, honey," Mel said, "except that he wants to come over now."

"We'll just have to come over here more often."

"You know," explain Mel, "the object of this shared custody deal is that Gus gets to spend time with you guys and we Mommies get some us time alone. Seems to me we're getting the short end of the stick if you're coming over here."

"Mel," Lindsay admonished. "Justin, you're welcome here anytime to see Gus."

"I know. But Mel is right. And when we're in the house, things will be different."

"So how's it coming?"

"What? The house, the loft, the move, the wedding? Pick one."

Mel disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine and three wine glasses. Distributed them and poured a half measure of crystal clear Chardonnay into each goblet. "Have you found a buyer for the loft?"

"Yeah. Brian met with them last week. They're straight."

"The horror," she joked. They all knew what a notorious heterophobe Brian was.

"Brian was not pleased but they had pre-approval for a loan which made him very very happy. As soon as the inspections and the paperwork goes through they'll close on the loft. Everything should be done by next week if nothing goes wrong."

Lindsay slipped away and peeked on dinner, then returned. Perched on the edge of the sofa next to Mel. "Excited?"

"Busy."

"Still…"

He broke into a wide grin. "I can't wait until you guys see the house. It's… it's amazing."

"So why haven't we seen it?" asked Mel.

"Brian wants to wait until all the papers are signed and it's ours."

"We could, at least, drive by and just see what it looks like."

He shrugged. "Not up to me. Talk to Brian."

"Yeah, right." The timer went off. "I'll get the spinach puffs."

While the adults were discussing real estate, Brian and Gus were busy building real estate of their own. Or rather, Brian was. Gus had gotten a Leggo castle set for his birthday but he wasn't very good yet at putting things together so he preferred to watch his daddy construct the castle while he provided musical accompaniment on his xylophone. Which was just what Brian wanted.

"Gus, Gus," he said finally, his head about to split, "I think Daddy's had enough music. Okay?"

"Okay. Pookie."

He raised a brows. "What did I tell you about calling me Pookie? It's Daddy to you."

"Pookie."

"What's Daddy's name?"

Gus smiled. "Pookie," upon which Brian grabbed him and began to tickle him mercilessly.

"What is it?"

"Poo—Poo—" Gus was laughing so hard he couldn’t say it. At last, he gave up. "Daddy!" He wriggled in Brian's arms and tried to get away. "Daddy!"

"What?" said Justin, coming around the corner. Brian released Gus and he ran to the safety of his other daddy's arms. "Has Daddy been tickling you again?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, tell him to stop."

"Top tickle me."

"Tell Justin why I was tickling you." Gus shook his head and hid behind Justin. Peeked out and shook his head again.

"Was Gus being bad?" asked Justin.

"He was calling me Pookie."

"Oooh," said Justin. He leaned over and told the toddler, "I'm the only person who's allowed to call Daddy Pookie. Okay?"

"Why?"

That had become one of his favorite phrases along with "What dat?"

"Because that's my special name for Daddy." He was still amazed that Brian tolerated it and tried not to wear it out for fear of being forbidden to call him that anymore. And he liked it. His Pookie.

"I call Daddy Pookie."

"How about you call Daddy, Daddy?"

"No!"

"Gus…" he warned and he gave the toddler the look Brian usually gave him when he was being less than perfect. Gus responded as he normally did by settling down even though Justin hadn't quite mastered the stare. Maybe it was the color of his eyes.

"Okay," said the toddler.

"So what's Daddy called?"

"Daddy."

"Good boy. You ready to eat?"

"Yeah!" He bounced up and down and clapped.

"Go wash your hands then."

The little boy ran off to the bathroom to wash his hands while Justin helped Brian up from the floor.

"When did the floor get so low?"

"It hasn't moved. You're just getting—"

"Bite your tongue."

"Then how would I be able to do this?" asked Justin and he licked Brian's throat before kissing it.

Later, after dinner, Lindsay asked, "Have you decided what kind of ceremony you're having? Traditional? Modern?"

"I think we're probably doing something non-traditional," replied Justin.

"You think?" asked Brian with a tilt of his head.

Gus looked up from the floor where he was playing with his blocks and showed Brian one. "What dat?"

"P." Smirked, "P is for—"

"Poetry. Which you could read during the ceremony," Lindsay suggested before Brian could finish his lesson. "I seem to remember someone taking a poetry class in college."

Brian stared at the ceiling. "Ah, let's see." Thought for a moment, then said, "There once was a twinkie from Pitts/ Who had a gold ring through his tit/ When you tugged it his cock/ Got as hard as a rock/ And that's not a sight to be missed."

Covering her face, Mel said, "Maybe you should skip the poetry."

"Or stick to Michelangelo and Whitman," said Justin, giving Brian the evil eye.

Although she knew she might be making a huge mistake, Lindsay asked, "So, have you spoken to Michael?"

Justin said nothing; he knew she wasn't talking to him.

"What? Today?" asked Brian.

"Since your argument?"

"No."

Ignoring the warning looks from both Mel and Justin, she plowed on. "Don't you think you should?"

"Don’t you think you should mind your own business?" He glanced down as Gus displayed another block for clarification. "C," he replied to the tot's unasked question and didn't bother to say what it was for. He didn't have to.

"Cookie," said Gus and began to sing although they only understood a few words. "See…cookie…for me."

Justin laughed and supplied the missing words. "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me," he sang and Gus jumped up and bounced up and down to the song. "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me. C is for cookie, that's good enough for me. Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie, starts with C."

Gus clapped and exclaimed, "Cookie!"

Standing, Mel held out her hand and he took it. "I think someone wants dessert. Anybody else?" None of the others said anything. "Okay, Gus, I guess it's just you and me."

"Cookie, cookie, cookie, see," he sang and together they went in search of cookies.

He felt her eyes on him and said, "You weren't there. You didn't hear the things he said."

"He was angry, Bri. And hurt. And you know he didn't mean them."

"He meant every word he said," Brian argued. "And so did I." 

 

Drew checked his watch as Brian sauntered into his office. "The Prodigal Son returns. And on time. Better get out my extra big notepad because this is going to be good," he joked.

Taking his seat, Brian said, "Don't get all sweaty, Doc. It's just the usual."

"Regular sized pad then," and he almost laughed because that sounded like a commercial for feminine napkins.

Brian did laugh because he'd done an ad for tampons and he'd watched about a dozen commercials for various products as part of his research.

Caught out, Drew chuckled as well. "What's up?" he asked when the laughter had faded.

"Getting married. Buying a house. The usual." Totally nonchalant.

Drew's mouth fell open and with effort he closed it. "You're getting married? When?"

"Next month. You'll get your invitation in the mail. February fifteenth, so put it on your calendar."

"Will do," said the therapist. "Brian Kinney… getting married. I wouldn't miss that for the world. And you're buying a house too?"

"Closing on the 27th of this month. Moving the following weekend and getting married two weeks after that."

Drew whistled. "Cutting it close. Any reason for the rush?"

"Michael asked me the same thing." Maybe there had been some validity to his questions.

"And?"

"And there's no reason to wait."

"Except that you'd have some time to settle into the house before putting on a major production."

"It's being catered."

"Still."

"Look, we get dressed, we show up and say a few words, and then we eat. And at some point very soon afterwards, I hope, you all go home and we go to bed. Simple." And even to his own ears, his words sounded false.

"Still, it's a big step. You ready?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was?"

"No."

"There's like fifty fuckin' thousand things left to do between now and the fifteenth. Justin is driving me crazy looking at furniture and rugs and… and the bills, the bills must be multiplying like Tribbles cause they're falling out of cabinets."

"Sounds like you're right on track."

"To doing what? Having a nervous breakdown?"

"To having a fabulous wedding and a fabulous life." Drew reached over and clasped Brian's hand. "And you, my friend, deserve it. Be happy."

Brian looked down. "I would be except that my best friend bailed on me."

"What's wrong with Michael?" _Other than being in love with you?_

"He told me I was making a huge mistake so I told him I didn't want him in the wedding."

"You think that was the right thing to do?"

"I didn't want him upsetting Justin. He's touchy enough about the house because it costs so much and he feels like a freeloader cause he's not paying the mortgage. Yet. But he really wants this wedding and I don't want anything to fuck it up for him."

"Do you want the wedding?"

"I’m paying for it."

"That's not—"

"Yeah, Doc, I do." Jesus, he really did. That, in and of itself, surprised the hell out of him.

"Why?"

"Why not? We've been together for almost two years now."

"Why do you want a wedding?"

They'd been through enough sessions that Brian knew what Drew was trying to get him to do. "I want it because I love Justin and I want to celebrate us being together. I want our friends to be there to celebrate with us. I know that some of them think that we're not gonna make it. They don't mean any harm, they just don't. And why should they? I've only ever been in one other relationship and it didn't end too well. And Justin's just starting out. We know how it looks. But we want them to know that we're serious, that we're committed to being partners for life."

"And none of what Michael said was true?"

"No." He wanted the house, he wanted to marry Justin, and he wanted them to spend the rest of their lives together—and they would.

"Do you want Michael at the wedding, as your best man?"

"Yes!" Despite everything Michael had said, he did. "He's my best friend, we've been best friends since we were fourteen. I want him to be there."

"Then tell him that. Put aside your anger and your pride and talk to him. Tell him how you feel. And listen to what he has to say too. He's probably feeling left out, feeling a little alone right now, like he's on the outside looking in."

"I wanted to include him."

"But it's not the same, Brian, and you know it. You have to know how Michael feels about you. You have to know how disappointed he probably feels."

"But Justin and I have been together for years now."

"But this is different, Brian. You said it yourself, this wedding means you're serious, it's a very formal and very public announcement of your intentions to be life partners." Drew observed as Brian absorbed his words. "Tell him that you know how he feels…" Brian looked up in alarm. That was the one thing he and Michael had never talked about, not openly, not if they wanted to stay friends and yet it hadn't kept them from breaking up. Maybe it was time to bring it out in the open. "And explain to him," Drew continued, "why you love Justin and why you're getting married."

"I've tried."

"Try again. I meant it before, be happy, Brian."

"But," Brian joked, "if I'm happy, then I won’t need to come and see you anymore."

"What does being happy have to do what that? You, my friend, have a long way to go before we can even think about ending our relationship. But if it ever happens, I would hope that we could be friends."

Brian smiled. "We already are, Doc." 

 

Justin had called and wanted to meet him in the mall. After wondering how long he'd live if he said no way, Brian agreed to be at Macy's Bridal Registry by six-thirty. Which meant he wouldn't have time to go home and change unless he left work early. Looking at his watch, he flipped a coin mentally and began gathering his stuff. What the hell, it was four o'clock and he'd put in a full day's work. Besides which, he was a partner now. Grinning broadly, he snapped his briefcase close and picked up his coat on the way out. Left instructions for Cynthia to tell anyone looking for him that he had an important meeting to attend off-premises and headed for the parking garage.

Having changed into a pair of jeans and his denim shirt, he felt better physically even as his stomach churned. There could be only one reason why Justin wanted to meet at Macy's Bridal Registry. China patterns. It was true they didn't have any formal china but the last thing he wanted to do was to wander around with a bunch of breeders looking at dishes and glasses and silverware. But if he refused to help Justin look for something, there'd be a lot of cold nights ahead of him. So he practiced all of his relaxation techniques and counted the minutes until the ordeal would be over.

Justin was waiting when he got off the escalator. They kissed. "Hey, Baby."

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

He checked Justin's watch, having taken his off. "Six forty-five. I had to park and you know how it is in the mall."

"I know. I just got here myself," he confessed.

"So let's get this over with," said Brian.

"That's an attitude."

"Sorry. China's not my thing."

"Afterwards I promise we can go downstairs and do some window shopping in the Men's department."

"Deal." There was another couple, straight, milling around and Brian wondered when the sales person would show up to give them the cold shoulder. He did not have a good feeling about this.

Justin, for his part, was confused by the plethora of dishes and glasses and stuff. His mom had given him a list of things she said they had to have but there were so many choices. Where's the sales person?

A blonde woman appeared, mid-thirties, wearing a wedding band and carrying what looked to be scanners like they used in the grocery store. As she approached, the straight couple made a beeline for her. Justin checked visually with Brian and they walked towards her as well.

"Are you here to purchase a gift or register for gifts?" she asked the straight couple.

"We need to register," the woman replied. The poor guy looked like Brian felt: like he'd rather be getting his wisdom teeth extracted.

"And you, sir?" she asked Brian and the woman laughed.

"I think that's obvious."

Clamping down on his first response, Brian replied, "We need to register."

"You're getting married?" the bride-to-be asked.

"Yes," Justin answered.

"To one another?"

"Uh-huh." She was cute, but slow, Justin thought.

The woman glanced at her fiancé and then frowned at them. "What for? It's not like it's real."

The saleswoman inhaled but words must have failed her because she didn't say anything. They all stood for a moment in stunned silence, even the woman looking surprised that she had said such a thing and Brian counted backwards from ten and thought happy thoughts and in the end, he said quite evenly, "Fuck you," and walked away.

Justin was shocked. He'd expected Brian to say a lot worse. Giving the saleswoman a lifted brow, he went to make sure his lover wasn't destroying anything valuable.

Facing the straight couple, the sales person handed the man the scanner. "There's your gun. Use it," and she followed Justin and found the couple examining some Royal Doulton china. "I'm terribly sorry."

Brian shook his head. "I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't even her, you know? Just reminded me of someone else."

"Someone who doesn't understand why you're getting married?"

"Yeah."

"You know, when I got married, my husband and I had to deal with people like that. My friends didn't understand why I was marrying him since he's quite a bit older than I am. And his friends thought I was just a gold digger. Which explains why I'm working here, right?" They laughed. "It got so bad that I tried to talk him into getting a prenuptial agreement and having a small wedding, just the two of us and a witness at the Justice of the Peace. And you know what he said? He said, 'I'm not marrying them, I'm marrying you. So fuck 'em." She smiled. "I think you and he would get along." She indicated the straight couple wandering in the section trying their best not to run into them. "So fuck 'em." She handed them their scanner. "You just scan the barcodes of the things you want and it records it. Then when you register, we'll download the information."

"Thanks," said Justin. "For everything."

"If you have any questions, just holler. My name's Trish."

"Thanks." Looking back towards the rude woman and her fiancé, Brian was glad to see the heteros heading down the escalator, scanner left behind. 

 

They'd chosen Naples by Royal Doulton for their china, Classic stemware by Vera Wang, and Golden Legacy silverware by Gorham. Brian was impressed by the tulip shaped Vera Wang with a subtle hint of gold color in the actual glasses and Justin especially liked the china as it reminded them of plates they'd used in Italy at one of the restaurants they'd visited.

After finishing in Macy's they hit Pottery Barn, Crate and Barrel, and Williams-Sonoma.

"Don't you have enough crap for the kitchen?" Brian asked incredulously as Justin went through making note of the things he wanted.

"We have some stuff but you didn't do much cooking so you're lacking a lot of essential items."

"Such as?"

"Such as a KitchenAid mixer." He lovingly ran his hands over the dark blue mixer that would go perfect with the Aga stove.

Checking out the price, Brian said, "That thing costs almost four hundred dollars."

Justin plucked Brian's shirt pocket. "Says the man in the hundred dollar shirt."

"Yeah, it's a shirt. I can wear it."

"Well, with this, I can make cake so we can eat it." Case rested, he moved onto the next item.

"Eat me," Brian whispered.

"I heard that," replied Justin.

They did spot a neat coffee table for either the bedroom or the family room in Pottery Barn and some furniture for Gus' bathroom as well as a hamper for their bathroom. Stuff to get when they went back for the mattress. There was no point in buying any local items now as there was no place to put anything. Flipping through the catalogue in the Crate and Barrel store, they found their casual dining ensemble, the one they were putting in the great room since neither one of them wanted to eat in the formal dining room unless it was a formal occasion. Brian applied for store credit on the spot and ordered the table and chairs and sideboard within a few minutes. Since they were in there, they registered for gifts as well and Brian laughed while reading the brochure.

" 'Look at what great gifts you'll get,' " he read with fake enthusiasm. " 'Did I register for enough gifts?' "

Justin herded him out of the store before the sales people had a chance to hear him. "We need something for the pergola too." They planned on putting a larger table in the courtyard, enough for at least six people to gather around.

"Eventually, yeah" Brian agreed. "But, for right now, as long as we have somewhere to eat, I'll be happy."

"Romantic dinners under the pergola, lanterns hanging overhead. Just the two of us." Justin tempted Brian with his vision.

"Fine. But something inexpensive," he warned. "Yet tasteful."

"Actually, I found a mosaic table online that might work."

Brian took hold of Justin's arm and tugged him along. "I'm taking that mouse away from you."

"It's the gerbil you have to worry about," he retorted.

As they walked to where he'd parked, since Justin was closer to Macy's, Brian asked, "Have you told your father about us?"

Without resorting to a cheap joke about his father already 'knowing about them,' Justin said, "No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"That's a kid's answer. You'll be twenty in a few days. I want a man's answer."

"I haven't told him because I don't want to have that conversation."

"What conversation?"

"The one where he asks me what the fuck I'm doing."

"And you can't tell him? I know it's not because you're afraid. I don't think you're afraid of anything."

"Some things," he admitted. "I just want everything to go smoothly."

Brian snorted and gripped Justin by the arms. "Baby, it's us. It's not gonna go smoothly. I'm just praying we make it through the day without it becoming a complete cluster fuck." Justin laughed too cause it was true. "I think you should talk to him."

"Maybe I will. When you talk to Mikey."

Brian took a deep breath. "I'm going by his place tomorrow. Time to clear the air." He waited.

"Maybe I'll go see my dad while you're with Michael."

"That would be a fantastic idea." Brian kissed him. "We heading home or what?"

"I don't have anyplace else to go." Besides which, he was tired. Hard to believe, but true.

"Food."

"Thai."

"You know the place."

"Meet you there."

They kissed again and parted and Brian watched Justin walk back to his car. He wished he could be there when Justin talked to Craig. Sometimes the man had a way of twisting Justin up so that it took all of Brian's considerable talents to straighten him out again. He understood. His father had had the ability to twist him up as well. He could only imagine what Jack Kinney would have said about him getting married and, truthfully, he was glad that he wasn't around to cast a damper on the proceedings. At least Craig was trying to understand Justin, even though, at times, it seemed to be an unbelievably slow process. For every inch that they moved forward, they appeared to move a half an inch in the opposite direction. Still, it was something. Whereas Craig would probably just stay away from the proceedings and keep to the background of Justin's life where he'd been lurking for months now, Jack would have made it his personal crusade to ridicule, heckle, and humiliate Brian. The way he always did when it came to something Brian thought was important.

Waiting for his turn to pull up to the ticket booth in the garage, Brian gave his head a tiny shake to clear it of all thoughts of his father. Jack Kinney was dead, let him rest in peace. He was still alive and about to embark on a new adventure with the man he loved. As he looked back up in his mirror after getting out his validated ticket stub, he saw Justin sitting behind him in the Cherokee and smiled. Justin waved and even though he didn't wave back his smile broadened and he knew that Justin had seen because Justin always knew if he was smiling or not, if he was happy or not, if he was bothered by something. On an impulse, he stuck his head and arm out of the window and waved. Justin laughed and waved him on. He looked around. The lady in the ticket booth was waiting. Grinning sheepishly, he advanced. 

 

When Brian poked his head in the door to see if he had a minute, Ryder was certain it was to talk about the house.

"So how's everything going with the new digs?"

"On schedule. The buyers are closing on the loft early next week and we'll close on the house on the twenty-seventh. But that's not what I'm here to talk about."

"You need some time off?" It'd be tricky but he and the other partners could probably handle it until Brian returned. If it were only a few days.

"Need it, yes; taking it, no."

"So what is it?"

"Ah… Justin and I are getting married. February fifteenth and… we'd like you and Liz to come."

"Married?"

Ryder seemed surprised. Which was only natural. Inside, Brian berated himself for even asking him. "Look, it's okay if you don’t want to come."

"What time?"

"Six o'clock. It's an evening wedding. At the house. Just twenty-five, thirty people."

"Liz and I would be happy to attend." And they would. Liz especially. She liked Brian and Justin, thought they made a 'cute couple.' "Are you registered anyplace?"

Brian cocked his head. "I didn't think you'd take it this well."

"I know that I gave you a hard time, at first—"

Brian laughed. "Hard time?" That was an understatement. He still remembered Ryder coming to his apartment after Justin had been bashed, worried about the bad publicity from the incident and suggesting that Brian take some time off to reconsider the choices he'd made. Or the time he'd chewed Brian out for fighting in the break room cause some asshole was making cracks about Justin.

Ryder remembered those moments too. "But I know now that you and Justin are committed to one another and I respect that commitment. So, where are you registered?"

"Macy's, Pottery Barn, Williams-Sonoma, Crate and Barrel, and Pier 1 Imports. So far," he added.

"I think I'll send out an all-staff announcement. You mind?"

"No."

"Good. Solicit donations for a company gift. Got a china pattern picked out?"

"And silverware and stemware, the whole nine yards."

"Macy's?"

"Macy's." He paused. "Thanks, Marty."

"You're a partner and a valuable member of this firm. Whatever we can do, just ask."

"I will." He wandered out of Ryder's office as if he were in a dream, unsure if in the next moment he'd run into Ewan McGregor in the hallway singing, _"Come what may,"_ from Moulin Rouge. "That's it!" he whispered fiercely. Rushed to his office and called Justin. When the teen answered, he said, " _'Come What May'._ "

"Huh?"

"From Moulin Rouge." Justin had the soundtrack and the DVD. "That could be our song." They both loved the movie and Ewan McGregor and even Brian thought Nicole had been 'okay'. And the music was great. More importantly, it had been a totally awesome day, that first time they saw it, just the two of them, cycling precariously (on Brian's part) in the park, holding hands in the movies, and then rushing back to the loft after dinner to make love.

"Yeah," agreed Justin, remembering that day fondly as well. "Yeah!"

Brian could see him smiling. "Did I do good or what?"

"Your gerbil did a good job. We'll have to practice dancing to it."

"In the house. We'll have plenty of room."

"Only a few more days now."

"Two weeks."

"I love you."

"Love you too. Listen, you call your dad yet?"

"Yeah. I'm having dinner with him. I hope."

Justin didn't seem very enthusiastic. "You'll be okay?"

"Yeah."

Brian heard the hesitation in his voice but decided to trust that Justin knew what he was doing and how to handle his father. "Then I'll see you later."

"Later." 

 

Justin had only been over to his dad's new place a couple of times and each time he was struck by how empty it seemed without Molly's crap all over the place, and the flowers his mom had always put out, and his sketch pads. It kind of reminded him of the loft before he and Gus had come along to stay. And now they were moving into a brand new place with a room for Gus and a studio for him.

"So," Craig asked, breaking through his daydream, "where do you want to have dinner?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Your birthday."

"Yeah." There was no point in putting it off. Bruschetta was not going to make it any easier to digest. "Dad, I have something to tell you."

"What?" Instantly suspicious. Justin could hear it in his voice. "You're not quitting school are you?"

"No. I'm… I'm moving."

"You and Brian split up?"

"No." He gave a half-laugh. "We're moving into a new house." Pause. "And we're getting married."

Craig frowned. "Did you say you were getting married?"

"Yeah, Dad, next month."

"Is this a joke?"

This was going just as he'd expected. "No, it's not. Brian and I are getting married."

"But, Justin, it's not legal."

"So what?" Frustrated, he sat and expelled a stream of air. "That's not why we're doing it."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Because we love each other and we want to celebrate."

"Then go out to dinner. But a wedding?" Craig's mind reeled. He'd spoken to Jenn just this past weekend and she'd known and hadn't said anything.

"Then I guess we don’t have to bother sending you an invitation."

"Invitations?"

"Yeah," he said exasperated. "Invitations, a catered dinner, cake, decorations, the whole nine yards. We're getting married." He'd known Craig wouldn't understand and his father hadn't disappointed him.

"Christ." He sat in an armchair and stared at his hands which were clasped between his knees.

"Don't worry, we're paying for it ourselves." Craig looked up and Justin regretted making even that tiny joke. "Dad… Why can't you understand?"

"Because I don't. I don't understand why you have to make a mockery of everything."

Justin's face went hot. "A mockery? Of what?"

"Of marriage."

"So we're not allowed to get married because we're gay?"

"What's the point? You can't have children—"

"We have a child."

"You have no legal rights—"

"It's not about—"

"And I bet he," Brian, "doesn’t even believe in God."

"He's Catholic, Dad; he believes in God. He just doesn't like him very much." On the verge of leaving, Justin made himself stay and try one last time. "We're building a life together. All we want is to be able to have the same things as everyone else."

"Funny, I thought gays didn't want to be treated like straight people." Justin had yelled that at him enough times that he'd finally gotten it.

"So only straight people can get married?"

"If you don’t want to be straight, then don't be. But you can't have it both ways." You had to draw the line somewhere and this was it.

Standing, Justin said, "I thought after everything that had happened with Chris Hobbs, you would understand. But you don't."

Craig rose and started after him, then stopped when he realized he didn't know what to say. From his place by the couch, Craig asked, "So that's it?"

"What do you want? You want me to say that we're not getting married? Well, we are. We're getting married and afterwards we're gonna live our lives, Dad. You can be a part of that or not. It's up to you." Then he added, "And this time you can't strike a deal with Brian because he has to be there." Softly, he said, "But you don’t." Closing the door behind him, he waited for the elevator to arrive and hoped that his father would come after him and hoped, just as fervently, that he wouldn't.

God, he wanted to see Brian. But Brian was dealing with a situation of his own. 

 

He'd stopped by Mikey's place and Emmett had been there entertaining a guest. Peeking out of the door to spare Brian the sight of his naked body, Em had informed him that Michael had gone to Deb's for dinner. Girding himself for the encounter, Brian had driven to Deb's house and parked. Now he sat outside debating whether he should go in. He could always wait until tomorrow. But he'd made a deal with Justin that if he talked to his dad, he would talk to Michael. So there was no point in putting it off.

Vic peeped through the curtain and announced to the group, "It's Brian."

Jeff gave Michael a look. He'd tried to talk to him again about Brian, prompted by Justin's visit, but Michael had again refused to discuss the situation. Looked like the situation had come to him.

"Hey," said Vic as he opened the door. Brian bussed him and waved to the rest of them sitting around the table.

"Hey."

"Don’t hey me," scolded Deb and she rose and hugged him tightly. "Where's Sunshine?"

"Dinner with his dad."

"So they let you loose on the town, huh?"

"I've got a tracer in my underwear. Justin doesn't let me leave home without it," he joked and she slapped him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Sit down and have some dinner." She checked out Michael's reaction and was satisfied to see that he was upset. Good, he ought to be. If she were closer to him, she'd pop him too.

"I'm good."

"Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Well, we just started so sit down. We're having lasagna." When he didn't sit, she said again, sternly, "Sit."

"Yes, ma'am."

Pop on the back of the head. "And don't call me ma'am."

"What do you do when I'm not around to hit?"

Vic raised his sleeve. "Have I showed you the bruises?"

Laughing softly, Brian caught Michael's eye. "Hey."

"Hey."

Jeff nodded. "How have you been?"

"Busy." He didn't have to say with what. Deb handed him a plate filled to the rim with lasagna. "Thanks." 

 

As he pulled up to Deb's house he cursed. Brian was there, which meant Michael was there. Shit. He was hoping to stay out of that. Especially since he was the bone of contention between them. It occurred to him that he should just go home but he really wanted to see Brian now, he needed to be with him and with people who supported their decision to get married, Michael excepted. Making up his mind in an instant, he parked and ran up the steps.

"Who could that be?" Deb asked, hearing the knock.

"I'll get it," said Michael, wanting a moment away from Brian's avoiding eyes. Even worse than Brian looking directly at him was the way his friend kept trying not to look at him. It was about to drive him crazy. Not bothering to check through the window, Michael threw open the door. "Justin."

"Hi, Michael."

"Sunshine!" called Deb. "We were just talking about you."

Michael waited until Justin had gone past him to shut the door and return to his seat. Brian rose and met Justin just as he entered the kitchen. "What happened?" Justin shook his head.

Another plate appeared and space was made for Justin next to Brian at the table.

"So," asked Deb, "are you excited?"

"I guess."

"You guess?" She exchanged glances with Vic. "I would have bet money that you'd already had your china pattern picked out."

He smiled. "I do."

Deb laughed. "What's it like?"

"Well—"

Michael standing up interrupted his response.

"Michael?" Deb asked, startled by his sudden movement.

"I think we should go," he said to Jeff.

Debbie glared at him. "What's going on?"

"You know damned well," he replied.

Justin stood. "I'll go."

So, of course, Brian got up too. "Come on."

"Goddamnit! Everybody sit your asses down!" ordered Deb. "Right now." They all sat back down. "Now, eat your fuckin' food before it gets cold. And the next person who gets up without cleaning his plate first is gonna answer to me."

They began to eat.

Perversely, Brian felt the urge to giggle and fought it until he happened to glance at Justin and see that he was barely holding it in too. And his floodgates opened and he laughed. Laughed so hard Justin had to slap his back before he choked on his lasagna.

"You can't die. We haven't said, 'I do,' yet," said Justin, which only made Brian laugh even harder.

Deb poured a glass of water and passed it to him, shaking her head. "Kids." 

 

After dinner Justin helped Deb and Vic clean up while Brian went outside to smoke. And to give Michael a chance to respond to the overture he'd made by coming over. Within a few moments, Mikey appeared outside. Stood for a while by the door before stuffing his hands in his pockets and joining Brian by the picnic table. He pressed down on it, testing it.

"I don't know why Ma won't get rid of this thing. I'm surprised the City hasn't condemned it yet."

"I think she keeps it around to give splinters to unwanted guests." But it had never worked on him. This had been home to him, just as much as his mom's house, more maybe, because they'd wanted him around.

Chuckling. "Maybe." He risked sitting on it anyway. "Brian…"

He waited. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

Brian exhaled a stream of smoke. "I know."

"Well, aren't you sorry too?"

"For what? I didn't do anything wrong."

Softly, Michael asked, "Not even for leading me on for fifteen years?"

Deb's words came back to him,"Always giving him just these extra little tidbits of your affection, huh? To make him believe that maybe someday you'd be his." Brian put out his cigarette. "I'm sorry."

"I always thought…" Michael shook his head. "I don't know, that maybe…you and me…"

"Mikey… It was never gonna happen between us." Total honesty now.

"If Justin hadn't come along—"

"Even if he hadn't, we wouldn't have gotten together."

"Why not? I'm not your type?" he joked.

"You're my best friend."

"And you don't do friends." That was a cardinal rule among the members of their group and yet he would have broken it in a minute. Maybe. Sometimes he didn’t know, wasn't quite sure how to feel about Brian.

"Cause if we had and something had gone wrong, who would we have turned to?" Brian asked. "And then that would have been our friendship gone right down the fuckin' drain. And for what?"

"For a chance to have a life together!" Michael exclaimed.

"It would never have been."

"You don't know that."

"I know that I belong with Justin." And he did. With all of life's uncertainties constantly assailing him, it was the one thing he knew to be true. "I don't know how I know it, I just do. I can't explain it but he's what I've always been searching for. Even though I didn't know it."

"It could have been me. You ever think about that?"

"No," he replied, "it couldn't have been. Because it's him." Michael rose and started to walk away. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Too late."

"Michael… please. I want you to understand."

"I do."

"No, you don't. Because I don’t understand it myself. Except that I feel like there's always been this piece missing from my life. And it was Justin." He neared Michael and touched him. At first his friend flinched but then he settled down. "I want you in my life. I want you in my wedding. You're my best friend and I want you beside me when I get married." He looked into Michael's eyes, so that he'd know he was sincere. "But if you can't do it, then that's okay. I'll understand."

"Maybe you would, but I wouldn't." He couldn't let Brian down no matter how he felt. "Friends don't let friends get married without them. Especially best friends."

Brian drew Michael to him and held him, feeling Michael's warmth against his own, comforting, reassuring. A homecoming. "Thank you."

"I love you, you know." Always had, always would.

"I love you too." Even if it wasn't the same kind of love, it was love nonetheless and special.

"Well," said Deb, as they reentered the house, "I bet your asses are cold."

"Don’t worry," Brian told her, "Justin'll heat mine up when we get home." Justin whacked Brian with a wet dishcloth, "Ow!" and Deb patted the teen's shoulder.

"Nice technique. I admire a man with good wrist action."

From the living room, Vic, Jeff and Michael brayed but Brian, wisely, stayed quiet. That dishcloth was no joke. 

 

Having driven home in separate cars, they parked and met at the front door, walked up together, arms about one another's waist and shoulder. Brian waited until they got upstairs and safely inside the loft before asking the question he'd been burning to ask all evening. "So what did the asshole say?"

That almost made him laugh, because that sounded so much like Mel talking about Brian sometimes. But he didn't laugh because there was very little funny about the situation. "He said we were making a mockery of marriage."

"Guess we can scratch his name off the list, huh?"

"Looks."

Brian gathered Justin in his arms and kissed him below the ear. "You knew he'd probably react that way."

"I guess… I guess I was hoping…"

He kissed him on the cheek. "I know." Justin was still so tense. "Least your mom'll be there."

"And your mom."

Chuckling, Brian asked, "Can you imagine what Jack would have said if he were alive?"

"He would have made my dad seem reasonable," laughed Justin and Brian felt the tension flow out of his frame. "Why are they such assholes?"

"I guess," said Brian, "that the world didn't give them much choice," and it was the most charitable thing he'd ever said about either one of them. "All that bullshit about being real men."

"We're real men," Justin pointed out.

"Total he-men," joked Brian and he struck a bodybuilding pose so ridiculous that Justin cracked up.

"I didn't know they had an underweight category."

"I am not underweight," declared Brian. "Just slender."

The teen ran his hand over Brian's slender chest. "Just perfect." Began unbuttoning his shirt. 

 

They'd arranged for him and Daphne to go to the school and pick up Xavier and Rennie. Justin didn't tell his two friends that he would be driving his new car. Seeing them from down the street, he grinned.

Pulling up to the curb, it was worth a thousand dollars to see Rennie's jaw drop.

"The deluxe Hot Wheels model… You must be putting out some good stuff, Boy Wonder."

"The best," he assured her. They hugged and she ran her hand over the hood. He and Xavier came together and embraced one another. "Good break?"

"I think I gained ten pounds. Every time I looked Nana Rose was shoving something in my mouth."

"And when she wasn't, Trey was," quipped Rennie.

"Nasty girl," said Xavier.

"Don't I get any hugs?" asked Daphne and both Rennie and Xavier hugged her, apologizing for seemingly overlooking her.

"I was blinded by Justin's gas guzzler," Rennie explained.

Xavier said, "You had some Christmas."

"And anniversary and birthday," he said.

"And now a new house and a wedding."

"You wearing white?" asked Rennie.

Daphne laughed and grabbed her arm. "Come sit in the back with me."

Loading up, they went down the street to a pizza place they liked to eat at and ordered two pizzas, one with the works and one white pizza with cheese only for Rennie.

"When do we get to see the house?" asked Xavier.

"After we sign the papers," he replied and hoped Daphne wouldn't tell them that he'd promised to show her the house before she went back to school. She wouldn’t be able to see it until the wedding otherwise.

"I can't believe you're getting married," Rennie said. "I mean, it's all I can do just to concentrate on my art. How are you going to manage school, a husband, a kid, and a house?"

"Same way I've been managing. Only better," he added cause, fuck, he'd made some mistakes. Big ones.

The girls wanted to go thrift store shopping so Xavier and Justin wandered around on their own for a while until they found a quiet place to sit and talk.

"You look happy," Xavier told him.

"I am."

"I really am glad for you, J. I mean it."

"I know."

"I'm glad I didn't fuck it up for you."

"You didn't do anything by yourself. I was right there with you."

Xavier shook his head. "Sometimes I look back and I wonder what in the fuck we thought we were doing."

"Trying to live." He squinted against the glare of the sun. "I'm glad we're still friends."

"Always, J."

Not looking at Xavier, Justin said, "I don't regret being with you. I hate that it hurt Brian… and us. But I'll always remember the time we spent together."

"Me too," Xavier said softly. "I'll always—" he began but the girls came over laughing and talking about their purchases and he never finished what he was about to say. 

 

With a name like Reverend Ophelia O’Leary, Brian had expected a willowy, red-headed Irish lass; instead, Rev. Ophelia reminded him of the Vicar of Dibley. Sturdy and round-cheeked with a mop of brown hair held back with a couple of hastily clipped barrettes. She was wearing, as best he could tell, a pair of brown suede pants topped with a generously cut blue tunic. But despite her appearance, she had a knowing look in her eye that bespoke her years as an AIDS counselor and minister to the gay community. Yet, for all of the death and sorrow she must have encountered, her spirit shone through bright as brass and it was that quality which had drawn Justin on the telephone and which he was now experiencing in person.

"So, you want to be married?" she asked with an Irish brogue. That much Brian had gotten right.

"Yes," said Justin, clearing his throat as his voice had cracked a bit. “Yes.”

"He’s still going through puberty,” explained Brian and Justin elbowed him.

Rev. Ophelia laughed and the sound was like music. “I know you,” she told them. “Said a prayer for Justin when he was in the hospital. Even went down to the proceedings once.”

"To protest?” asked Brian. There had been a lot of protestors, none of whom he’d regarded very kindly at the time.

"No. To see the other one. To see the face of a child who could do such a thing. To try and understand why.”

"And?”

"And nothing. What can you know of a person in such a short time?”

All Brian could hear was Chris Hobbs saying he’d attacked Justin because of him. His face darkened and Justin reached for his hand, held it, and his features cleared and he smiled, the shadows gone.

"I was going to ask you why you wanted to be married but I don’t think I have to,” she said. “So when is the blessed event?”

"February fifteenth,” replied Justin.

"Not much time.”

"Are you available?”

She checked her book. “Aye, I’m free. I suppose you'll be wanting to do it early in the day? There goes my sleeping in.”

"Actually, it’s an evening wedding. Six o’clock.”

"Well, I’ll have to wear my fancy clothes underneath my robe.” She wrote down the time in her planner. “Now, are you wanting a traditional wedding or something a little more modern?”

"I think we’d better go with something a little more up-to-date than ‘love and obey,’" said Brian, “although…”

"Don’t even think about it,” warned Justin.

"I think we can accommodate you. Will you be writing your own vows or saying something special during the ceremony?”

Brian raised a brow and Justin shrugged. Still, he said, “It’d be nice if we did.”

"Brian?”

"Like what?”

"Like,” answered Justin, “saying how we feel about each other.”

"Won’t that be obvious? I mean, we are getting married.”

"I think what Justin means,” began Ophelia but Justin cut her off.

"He knows what I mean. He’s just being difficult.”

"At any rate, we can discuss it again as the time gets closer but you don’t have much time to decide. Let’s say we meet in a week and go over the order of service. I'll have some options for you then."

Justin rose when she did and shook her hand. “Thanks.”

Brian took it as well. “We’ll see you in a week.”

"You hope,” she said, laughing again. 

 

"I like her," Justin said as they drove to their next appointment, which was at the formal wear shop. They had to pick out their tuxes.

"She's okay," said Brian which meant he really liked her.

Glancing at his partner, Justin chuckled. That's why he loved him. 

 

An hour later he could have killed him. Who would have thought it would have been that much trouble finding a tuxedo to please His Big and Badness? That one didn't do, not that one, no, no, no, a volley of no's fired at the poor, hapless clerks in the shop, riddling them with rejection and turning their ordinarily pleasant evening into a major engagement. One in which they were on the losing side. Of course, Justin felt like a loser as well as every suggestion he made was shot down just as quickly. Finally, one fortunate soul brought out a black Fumagalli tux. The single-breasted, five-button jacket had a mandarin collar. Justin was certain Brian was going to blitzkrieg him but he paused, took it from the man, examined it from collar to cuff and pronounced it, "Perfect." Held it up against Justin. "We'll need two. One in his size and one in mine."

Relieved that they'd found something that suited him, they were more than happy to take their measurements and put in the order. The supervisor assured Brian that the tuxes would be there within the week.

"Good," he replied, "because my tailor will need to make some adjustments."

"You can't adjust rentals," the man explained before Justin could warn him.

"We're buying these," Brian told him, frowning. He did not do rental tuxes.

"Yes, sir." Subdued, the clerk rang up their order. When he was done, he gave Brian the receipt and said, "You pay when the tuxes come, sir."

"Fine." Brian put away the receipt and left without saying anything else.

"Thanks," said Justin, a little ashamed of Brian's imperious behavior. When they got to the car, he launched an attack of his own. "Did you have to act like the Queen of Sheba?" he asked his partner.

"What?" replied Brian, genuinely puzzled by Justin's obviously bad mood.

"You yelled at those guys for a half an hour and then they find something you like and you didn't even bother to say thank you."

"They're getting my money, what else do they want?"

Justin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember that this was the same man who would play horsie with Gus or buy him roses or sing to him.

"Baby?"

"Just drive."

But Brian didn't drive away. He sat there with his hands on the wheel and took a deep breath. "You want me to go back and apologize?"

"No. I just—" Justin started. "I just wish you'd think about someone else before you totally disregard them. You treated them like servants, and they're not."

"Fine," Brian said tightly.

"And now you're mad."

"I’m not mad."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not." He turned, faced Justin. "But I may be if we keep this conversation up."

"Oh," said Justin, about to have a hissy fit of his own. "You might get angry. I guess I should just shut up then."

"Let it go," Brian warned.

"Maybe use my mouth for something useful, huh?" he asked, reaching for Brian's zipper. But Brian swatted his hand away.

"Leave me alone."

Justin moved closer and cupped Brian's groin. Whispered in his ear, "You mean you don't want me to service you? I thought that's what we were all for: to serve you."

"Fuck you," Brian growled and his jaw tightened.

Satisfied that he'd gotten a rise out of him, Justin moved away and sat back in his seat, silent for the rest of the trip home.

Only, when they got home, Brian showed no signs of having gotten over his anger, in fact, he seemed angrier than before, as if the silent trip had only intensified his emotions.

Suspecting that he may have made a mistake, Justin tried to make amends but Brian was having none of it. Brushed him off and strode on ahead, not bothering to see if Justin was behind him or not. It was only by opening the loft door and leaving it open did he indicate that he even cared. Closing the door, Justin said, "Brian?"

The man whipped around. "Stay away from me. That's a direct order from the Queen herself." And he headed for the bedroom.

Justin closed the gap between them. Sang in a whisper, _"Never knew I could feel like this/ Like I've never seen the sky before…"_ Brian paused and Justin moved closer. _"I want to vanish inside your kiss/ Every day I love you more and more."_ Instantly, Brian's anger vanished and he enveloped the teen in an embrace and heard Justin say, "Come what may."

"Come what may," he agreed and lifted Justin in his arms. 

 

Over breakfast, Brian said, "Last day as a teenager. What do you want to do?" They had already spent the early morning making up again but he wasn't adverse to another make-up session. Only, he figured Justin probably wanted to go see caterers. Which was what they ought to be doing while they still had time. And picking out a cake. And sending out the invitations. He sighed inwardly but was careful not to let it escape his lips, wary of another blowup like yesterday's that had come out of nowhere and gripped him so tightly he hadn't been able to escape it. Pre-wedding jitters. Except that their wedding was still almost a month away. Putting it from his thoughts he waited for Justin's reply.

"Well," he said, "we need to do the invitations, talk to the caterers," bingo, "and hit a couple of bakeries," direct hit. "And I set up a meeting with the DJ for this afternoon. He's meeting us here around five. Okay?"

Brian snapped the paper and went back to reading the Style section. "Fine with me. That all?" he asked, peeping over the top.

"And then maybe we could have dinner and make up some more," he suggested with a grin.

The ad exec didn't reply but he did raise his foot and stroke his lover's calf. 

 

Their first stop was a nearby bakery that they both liked. Joanie and Justin had found the perfect cake online. Unfortunately, the bakery that produced it was not local. Their task was to find a place in Pitts that could design a similar cake which was also moist and delicious.

The proprietor of the bakery was from the South and she loved to bake. And it showed. She was an earth goddess if ever they had seen one. Voluptuous and not beautiful but striking. She even called herself Gaia, as if aware of the association everyone made when they saw her. Actually, she looked a little like the cartoon character Gaia on Captain Planet, except that she was heavier and had more curves. Not only did she have some of the best cake in town but Justin loved the way she talked, like she was putting exclamation marks behind every phrase.

"Hey," she called out as the guys came in. Justin was one of her favorite customers. He loved her tiramisu, told her it was the best he'd had outside of Italy. She propped her elbows up on the counter. "What can I do for you boys?" This, despite the fact that she was probably under forty.

"We need a wedding cake," Brian told her.

"For who?"

"For us," said Justin.

"Well, isn't that something." Reaching behind the counter, she took out a Palm Pilot. "When you need it?"

"February fifteenth."

Checked her dates. "Cutting it kind of close."

"But you can do it, right?"

"Maybe. What kind you want?"

"First," said Justin, pulling out the picture of the cake from online, "can you do something like this?"

She looked at it for a moment. Laughed. "Shoot. I thought you wanted something hard. So what flavor do you want?"

"What do you suggest?" asked Brian. What was the point in consulting with an expert if you couldn’t get an expert's opinion?

"Well, I like lemon cake myself for weddings. It smells good and it tastes good, my two requirements for cake."

"I like lemon," said Justin.

"How about this? Y'all come back this afternoon and I'll have some sample cakes for you to taste. How about that?"

"We can do that," Brian told her.

"All right now. Getting married."

After the baker, they went to see the caterers. They had been recommended to them by an old trick of Brian's. And, of course, they were gay.

"Gas Mark eight," whispered Brian to Justin as the two men led them to a sitting area and told them to make themselves comfortable. They ran the business out of a space very reminiscent of Sebastian's shop—they even lived above it—and, for a moment, Justin was sad but then he remembered all the years of happiness James and Sebastian had shared and he smiled softly and made up his mind to visit their graves and take some flowers before the week was out. After all, Valentine's Day was coming up, what better way to celebrate their love?

Handing them a brochure explaining the different wedding services they offered, the two—Derek and Hansel—gave them a moment to look it over.

There was something strange about the two, Justin decided, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. They were both quite handsome, almost pretty even and when they walked, they glided. Very good posture. Skin smooth and even-toned. They reminded him of something…

"So why do you call your company the Zoo?" asked Brian.

"Zoolander!" exclaimed Justin. "Derek Zoolander and the other model was named Hansel."

"Exactly," said Derek. "These aren't our real names but we loved the movie so much we figured, what the hell."

"What the hell, you'd change your names?" Brian asked seeing visions of death by chocolate—and not in a good way.

"What the hell, we might as well have some fun."

The one called Hansel leaned forward, as if imparting some great secret, "We used to be male models."

"Never would have guessed," Brian deadpanned.

Despite their gooniness, they served a killer lunch and the two grooms were more than happy to throw them their business. Besides, Brian thought it would be great to put on their wedding program that it had been catered by the Zoo. Secretly, Justin figured Brian just wanted to see how many of the cater waiters on the Zoo staff he had actually slept with in the past. Remembering Brian's performance at Michael and David's fundraiser for Senator Baxter, Justin resolved not to leave him alone with any of the cater waiters at their function.

With the caterers taken care of, they returned to Gaia's place to sample cake. When they walked in the door, they could smell freshly baked lemon cake and their minds were made up before she even offered them a seat and brought out the samples. Along with glasses of water to cleanse the palate between slices.

"Now," she said, "taste this and see if you don't slap yourself upside the head with your tongue."

Each piece was sinfully rich and delicious. There was a pale yellow cake that tasted of toasted almonds; a soft butter cake; an Italian cream cake with coconut and pecans in the batter; and even a moist white cake flavored with vanilla; but the lemon cake was the clear winner. The scent of citrus fruit perfumed the air and they felt as if springtime had already arrived.

"Raspberry filling, buttercream frosting," she described before taking a bite of the cake herself. "Mmm mmm mmm. Now, that's good."

Justin had to agree. "And the decorations won't be a problem?"

"Honey, I've got a dozen patterns for Royal icing snowflakes. All you need to tell me is how many layers do you want and how many snowflakes do you want?"

Brian deferred to Justin. "There's only gonna be about thirty, thirty-five people there. But…"

"You want something impressive," she finished for him. They all did, male, female, gay or straight, everybody wanted a big-assed cake.

"The cake's going to be out in the solarium and it's a pretty big space so we need something that looks, I don't know…"

"Impressive."

"Bingo," added Brian. He liked the way she thought.

"Since you're only having less than fifty guests, how about I do a fake cake to put in with the real ones? We'll do a fake bottom layer, then put in two real ones for the reception, and you can save the top one for your anniversary next year."

"Sounds great."

"Now, I got to tell you, buttercream ain't the most hardy of frostings so it needs to be in a cool place."

Brian told her, "We can set the heat on low in the solarium, it should be cold enough."

"And the Royal icing will start to break down when it comes in contact with buttercream so I won't put the snowflakes on until the cake is set-up."

"You'll come and set it up?" asked Justin.

"I got to make sure my shit looks right." She smiled. "Excuse my French."

"Fuck it," said Brian. "You wanna hang around after you're done?"

"Hell, I'm always ready for a par-tay."

Arriving home at four thirty, they had a half hour before the DJ was supposed to show up. Brian opted to lie down for a moment while Justin kept him company and flipped through the brochures the caterers had given them.

"We probably should have done this first and then we could have put an RSVP card inside and asked people to indicate their choice of entrees."

"Maybe but most people won't return the damn things on time. I'll give Cynthia the list and have her call all of them and get their answer on the phone once we make some decisions."

"I wonder if my grandmother will come," Justin said, making notations on the brochure.

"Mine won't."

"They're both dead," Justin pointed out.

"Yeah, but even if they were alive, I couldn't see either one of them at a gay wedding."

"My grandmother would probably get drunk and hit on you."

"Naturally."

Justin nudged him with his foot. "Are you always this conceited?"

"Modesty's for losers."

Chuckling, Justin went back to perusing the menu choices available from the Zoo.

At precisely five, DJ Twist buzzed them from downstairs. He was just as they'd remembered him: not quite six feet tall, slender, and beautiful. Deep brown eyes and dark, almost black hair, a rakish goatee, and full red lips. "Bri, good to see you again," he said as he came inside the loft. "Justin."

"Hey."

"So you two are getting married? Sweet. I think I can hook you up. Valentine's Day is crazy but the day after Valentine's Day is just the day after Valentine's Day, you know?"

"Not to us," countered Justin.

"True." He took out a pad of paper. "Low tech palm," he explained with a grin. "So what kinda music you want?"

"Something traditional for the service. You know, Bach, Handel, those guys. And we need a song to play after they read the poetry and while we're lighting the commitment candle."

"I got some wedding CDs with classical music. I'll see what I can find. What about the reception?"

"I was thinking maybe some jazz, show tunes, vocalists, stuff like that for the dinner part and then something we could dance to later on."

"House, electronica, rock and roll?"

"Yes," said Brian.

"Plus some slow songs," added Justin. "And they should all be about love."

"And no Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, or Enrique Iglesias. And no boy bands," Brian stipulated.

"But I like Savage Garden," Justin complained.

"Do you want my head to explode?"

"What about Destiny's Child?"

"If you have to," replied Brian, rolling his eyes.

"They're not a boy band," he pointed out.

"No, just annoying."

"You know," Justin said, standing, "why don't you pick out the music and you let me know? Or better yet, how about we just forget about the entire thing and you can do whatever the hell you want!" Leaving them in stunned silence, he stormed off to the bedroom.

DJ Twist laid his paper and pencil down on the table.

Taking a deep breath, Brian said, "We'll be back."

"Take your time."

"If I'm not out in ten minutes or if you hear any crunching sounds, please come save me before he eats me alive." Walking slowly to the bedroom, wishing that they had a door to close so that they could at least have a little privacy, Brian entered the lion's den. Found Justin sitting on the bed with his back to the livingroom. He leaned against the doorway. "You know, I wouldn't care if there was no music."

"Gonna give me some corny-assed line about how all that matters is that we're there?" came Justin's response.

"Yeah," said Brian, "I am gonna give you some corny-assed line about how all that matters is that we're there because that is all that matters. The rest of this shit is just… icing on the cake. On a cake that you and I both picked out without shedding any blood, sweat, or tears."

Justin snickered and rubbed his face. "Teen Drama Queen scene?"

"Big one."

"Sorry."

Now that it was safe, Brian went and sat down next to his partner. "If you want to play Savage Garden or Destiny's Child, you can."

Laughing, Justin said, "Oh, that was gracious."

"I'm feeling magnanimous."

"What about Whitney, Celine, and Enrique?" he asked to test the boundaries of Brian's good will.

"The Axis of Evil is still banned from the list."

Returning to the livingroom, the two partners discussed their revised music choices and DJ Twist assured them that he would mix it up so that there was something for everyone. "What about your song?"

" 'Come What May' from Moulin Rouge," Justin answered.

"Good choice. Very popular." As he finished making notes, he said, "So am I gonna be doing MC duties too?"

"We've got wedding directors who'll be in charge of herding people from place to place and keeping us on track and making announcements. Mind if they use your mic?"

"Not a problem. Well, if there's nothing else?"

Brian shook his hand at the door. "Always a pleasure."

Twist said with a twinkle in his eye, "Less of one now that you're getting married."

"You mean we…?"

"You spin me right round, baby/ Right round like a record, baby/ Right round round round…" he sang as he left the apartment.

Justin hit Brian in the arm.

"Ow! What's that for?"

"Just because," he replied and went to look at entrees. 

 

They'd fallen asleep but Brian had set the alarm. At precisely twelve o'clock it rang and they woke up again, the older man cutting it off and pulling the younger man to him. "Happy Birthday," Brian said against Justin's cheek. They kissed. "What do you want for your birthday?" he asked when they'd parted.

"I have everything I want."

Brian eased his leg over Justin's hip and laid his forehead against his partner's. "Sure?"

"Positive."

Giving him another kiss, this time longer and deeper, Brian asked, "There's nothing you want?"

Justin drew him in for another kiss. "Well, maybe something…"

Their low laughter filled the room and then they fell silent save for the usual sounds of their lovemaking.

Lying on his back, Justin stretched between his thighs and feasting on his balls, Brian uttered a sharp cry and groaned. Letting his lover's sac slip from his lips, Justin rose up and encircled Brian's cock with his fist, held him upright. A drop of precum bubbled from the tip and slipped down over the head, slid down the shaft. He waited until it was just about to touch his hand and lapped it up completely. Took the opportunity to engulf the swollen head and suck it until Brian gave a shout.

"Baby, Baby, Baby… Baby," he muttered as Justin went down on him from tip to base for the second time in fifteen minutes. "Oh, fuck…" His toes curled and he drew up his knees, pressing down into the mattress with his feet, trying to ground himself but he was losing that battle. All he wanted to do was to come, to shoot his load. His balls were so tight, so full they felt like they were going to burst.

Justin moved slightly to the side and used one hand to steady himself and the other to stroke Brian's balls as he sucked him off. His lover shuddered and pumped his hips twice, three times, and came. Keeping hold of the slippery organ with his lips was difficult but Justin managed to collect every drop of cum. Then, letting Brian slide free, he raised his hips from the bed and parted his cheeks. Opened his mouth. Cum and saliva dripped down upon the man's hole which was exposed and twitching from the aftermath of his orgasm. Soon it was covered. Justin lubed Brian, then flipped him over and mounted him, sliding through his tight hole, coming to rest deep inside him.

"Oh," mouthed Brian and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Justin's cock, the rhythm of his strokes, slow at first but increasing in speed. Justin was so hard, so thick. He reached back and laid his hand upon his Baby's flank.

"Feel good?" Justin asked him and Brian moaned. "You like that?"

He said nothing, enjoying the ride.

Many long minutes later, Justin began to feel the need to take a ride himself. Giving Brian a couple of deep thrusts, he pulled out and turned his lover over. Brian's cock was hard against his belly, oozing precum from the tip. Perfect. Justin knelt astride Brian and waited.

Brian took his cock in hand and stroked it, coaxing even more precum to rise and spill. Justin leaned over and let a mouthful of saliva drip over the swollen head, mixing with Brian's juices. The man's flesh looked hard and shiny, slick. Brian held it upright by the base and Justin settled down over it. Lowered his hips until the head touched his hole. Pushed down and opened up around it. "Yes," he whispered as he took in the shaft. Felt Brian's hands on his hips, over his ribcage, his chest.

"Baby…"

He positioned himself on all fours and rocked back, fucking himself on Brian's cock.

Happy Birthday. 

 

Hours later, Justin awoke to the smell of bacon cooking, probably eggs too. Butter which maybe meant toast. Coffee. He smiled and closed his eyes again, awaiting his birthday breakfast in bed. Which came in a little while on the tray he'd bought when Brian had gotten sick last year. The week of his birthday. Things had certainly changed. Although he'd wanted Brian to think he was still asleep, he couldn’t help it, he smiled and Brian laughed.

"Faker."

He opened his eyes and sat up. Fixed the pillows behind his back. "I was thinking about my birthday last year and how different things are now." One thing hadn't changed, that Brian still looked delicious in his sheer, black, silk robe. Justin hoped he'd been careful in the kitchen as the robe wouldn't have afforded him much protection from hot, splattering grease.

Brian positioned the tray over Justin's lap, then went back for the carafe of coffee and the cream and sugar. There was one plate on the tray and two forks and two cups. The one plate was filled with food enough for two. After he sat the coffee and sugar and cream upon the night stand, Brian got back in bed and kissed the birthday boy. "Mmm…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Laughing, Justin held up his coffee cup. Brian filled it half way, poured cream enough to reach the two-thirds mark, and stirred in three teaspoons of sugar. Just the way Justin liked it. He sipped a taste and smiled. "Perfect."

"As always."

"You or the coffee?"

"Both." Brian fixed his own, black with plenty of sugar, and raised his cup for a toast. "To the hottest twenty-year-old in Pittsburgh." They clicked cups.

"Not the world?"

Brian amended his statement. "In the world." Put down his coffee. "I forgot the juice."

Justin picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers. Crunched on it. "Forget it. Don't need it."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"You certainly talk enough when my mouth is full," he grinned, alluding to last night's/this morning's activities and the way Brian had moaned while Justin sucked him.

Saying nothing, Brian also took a piece of bacon and began eating. He needed his strength. Justin had that 'I'm not finished with you' look in his eye. "Oh," he said and got up. Rummaged in his briefcase. Came back with something in his hands. Handed Justin an envelope and plopped back down.

Justin set aside his fork and took the envelope, opened it to find a card with two men in bed on front and the message "My dreams come true…" Inside it said, "every time I wake up with you." And it was signed, "Happy Birthday, Pookie."

"I mean it," Brian said, giving him a little kiss which turned into a much bigger kiss and proceeded to evolve into the need to put the food on the nightstand and attend to other desires.

Forty minutes later, in the shower, Brian asked him again, "What do you want to do today?"

Shrugging and moving closer so that Brian could wash his back, Justin said, "Don't know. Maybe I can work on another drawing for Kenneth."

"It's your birthday," Brian pointed out, running his hands over his lover's smooth, soft skin.

"Yeah," agreed Justin. "Exactly." They'd had plenty of fun the last time working on the first drawing.

Brian raised a brow. Smiled. "I want to take you out, show you off."

"Tonight."

"Which means I'll need my strength."

Justin cupped his buttock and kissed him just above his heart. "I promise I'll be gentle."

Both having dried off, Brian knelt and held Justin's underwear as the young man stepped into them, then stood and pulled the white boxer briefs up over his golden furred calves and thighs until the spandex stretched snug about his buttocks and crotch. He adjusted his lover's package, then kissed him, his palm still cupped about his groin. Squeezed lightly and felt Justin pulse in response. Nibbling on his neck, he continued to stroke him, listening to the sounds of Justin's breathing for signs of increasing arousal. Finally, the twenty-year-old eased Brian away from him and laid back on the bed, thighs open. He pushed his briefs partway down his thighs and left them there. An invitation.

Lips pursed, Brian started to join him when the buzzer to the front door rang. "Fuck!" He started to ignore it when it came again. "Fuck."

Justin drew up his underwear and went in search of his robe. Brian's lay at the foot of the bed. Frustrated, Brian snatched it up and stomped off to buzz through whomever it was. He belted it around his waist and waited.

"Well, it's not any of my friends," Justin assured him. "Daphne gave me her present at lunch on Thursday and Rennie and Xavier promised not to show up today."

"Probably your mom," he groused.

"I told her not to come over before twelve."

Brian glanced at the clock on the DVD player. Grimaced. "Eleven fifty-nine," he announced.

"Shit." Gave Brian a kiss. "Sorry."

"I'll—" He was interrupted by a knock. "Come on in, Jenn," he said as he slid open the door to find not only Justin's mom there but Lindz and Mel, Deb and Vic, Mikey, Jeff, Ted, and Emmett. And Gus.

"Daddy!"

Brian caught the toddler in his arms and kissed him soundly, then passed him to Justin. "What are you people doing here?"

"Fashion show," explained Ted. "The latest in hide and peek loungewear."

Looking at the slightly shocked faces of the women present, he realized what he'd done. He'd put on his sheer robe. Turning to Justin, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry."

Breathing loudly, he mumbled, "Nothing you’ve never seen before," and since most of the women present had seen him naked or near naked at least once, it was true. "Come on in," he said before heading to the bedroom to find his other robe.

"What's up?" asked Justin, putting Gus down. The toddler ran after Brian.

"Well," explained Jenn, "we figured you and Brian would probably want to have an intimate dinner for two but we wanted a chance to celebrate with you. You only turn twenty once. So here we are." And they had food and cake and presents.

"Thanks, Mom," he said, bussing her on the cheek.

"Had lunch yet?"

"Just part of breakfast."

"Part?"

He grinned.

"Oh."

By the time he and Brian had each put on something more substantial, their guests had begun setting up the birthday brunch. Jeff and Mikey and the guys had piled up Justin's presents on the cabinet outside their bedroom and then retired to the livingroom, Emmett browsing through their CD collection to find some appropriate birthday music.

Deb caught Justin as he was passing the bar and laid a big one on him. "Happy Birthday, Sunshine."

"Thanks, Deb."

Em had decided to put on Macy Gray's _On How Life Is_ and skipped right to "Caligula". As the first notes sounded, Justin began to bounce.

_"Hush the neighbors hearing you moaning and groaning  
But I just can't help it 'specially when we be boning"_

"Excuse me," he told her and went into the livingroom. Tried to get Brian to dance but the older man refused. "Come on, Gus, dance with Daddy." The tot left Brian's lap and reached up for Justin's hands and together they danced soon joined by Mikey and Jeff, and Em and Ted.

"Do the Naked Dance, Gus," Justin told him and the toddler shook his hips in a pretty good imitation of Justin.

Brian and Vic watched them and laughed, especially when Macy sang, "He wanna fight and make me feel like nothing/ Never loving but we're always fuckin" and Mel and Lindsay looked up to see Gus boogying with his Daddy Justin as if he were listening to The Wiggles.

_"Like a jacuzzi_  
I'm hot and bubbly baby  
It's like the sunshine  
You're gonna love it  
He's something like my favorite fix  
I've got to have it again and again  
Beau day doh doh doh doh doh…" 

Tired of dancing, Gus found Jenn in the kitchen and said, "Nana, juice."

"You want some juice?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

She found his cup and poured him a cup of juice which he drank noisily.

Deb, sitting on a bar stool, asked her, "How does it feel being a grandmother?"

Smiling at the toddler, Jennifer replied, "I love it. And him."

"Is Joanie coming?"

"She said she might. Listen," Jenn began, "when are we going shopping for dresses? The wedding's less than a month away."

Looking down at her waistline, or what was left of it, Deb replied, "Maybe I could wear one of the dresses we bought for the trial."

Having overheard her, Brian nixed that. "Buy something new."

"Brian—"

"He's right," seconded Michael. "You haven't bought a new dress since the trial."

"I'm a waitress, I don't need new dresses, I need sensible shoes and orthopedic hose."

"Well, this time you're buying something sleek and sexy," said Brian.

She looked down at her body again. "On this old chassis?"

"New coat of paint," he told her.

"What about the guys?" she asked. "What about you and Justin?"

"We ordered tuxes Friday," Justin replied. "Fumagalli."

"And I'm taking the guys shopping next weekend for rentals," Brian said.

Ted rolled his eyes. "This oughta be fun. Like a turn in the Roman Colosseum."

"Oo," exclaimed Emmett, clapping his hands, "I loved Russell Crowe in Gladiator. So butch."

"And wearing a skirt no less," added Vic.

Justin told them, "Brian has a tuxedo like the one he wore to the Academy Awards. It's sweet."

"But you're buying another tux for the wedding?" asked Jeff.

"Of course," answered Brian. "You can't get married in a rented tux," he said as if they were words of wisdom passed down over the ages.

"Of course not," Jeff agreed and smirked as Gus looked at his Daddy with a serious expression on his face.

"Can you, Gus?"

The baby shook his head as if he knew exactly what Brian meant and was rewarded with a kiss. "Luv you," he told Brian.

"I love you too."

Sliding onto the arm of the sofa next to Brian, Justin asked, "Me too?" and was given a kiss as well.

"You too."

"All right," Jenn announced, "brunch is ready."

It was the sort of luncheon someone would fix for a bridal shower: chicken salad sandwiches on focaccia, tomato and basil quiche, and a carrot cake with a light orange-flavored cream cheese frosting.

"This is great, Mom."

Jennifer received the praise with a warm smile. "I'm glad you like it."

"You cooked this yourself?" asked Brian.

"With some help from Vic and Deb."

Brian whistled. "Maybe you three should cater the wedding. Except that you all might be in it."

At this first mention of the mechanics of the ceremony, Lindsay took the initiative to ask, "So have you decided what kind of service you're having?"

"We saw Rev. Ophelia on Friday," Justin explained, "and we're going to see her again this week coming up to make some decisions."

"Rev. Ophelia?" asked Ted. "Sounds vaguely Shakespearean. You sure she won't throw herself into a pond before the service?"

"She looks like the Vicar of Dibley," Brian said. "And she's Irish."

Jeff laughed. "Only you two would end up with an Irish priest who looks like the Vicar of Dibley."

"Who's the Vicar of Dibley?" asked Michael.

"It's a show. This British comedy. She's hilarious. Dawn French. Used to be part of a comedy team with Jennifer Saunders. From AbFab," explained Jeff.

"AbFab?"

"Absolutely Fabulous," exclaimed Emmett. "I loved Patsy."

"You wanted to be Patsy," said Ted. "Actually, Brian was Patsy."

" 'Sin is in, sweetie,' " quoted Em.

" 'Easy going sex with gorgeous, underage youths...' " said Ted, looking at Brian.

"He was not underage. Just undercooked."

Jennifer blushed, then said, "I loved that show." She quoted Edina talking about her ex-husband, " 'I don't know why it went wrong with Justin. I mean, you know, cause we did just adore each other, you know…' "

Ted, Emmett, and Jeff shouted, " 'He's gay!' " and they and Jennifer laughed and the others laughed as well to see them laughing together.

"Has your mom been drinking?" Brian asked Justin.

With brunch eaten and the cake partially demolished, it was time to open presents. Brian checked and saw that it was only two o'clock. Plenty of time to rest up before tonight.

Justin, with Gus as his helper, opened his presents. The baby seemed to feel that any present opening had to involve him as any and all presents belonged to him.

"He's your son all right," said Mel.

"Was there ever any doubt?"

"Well, he can dance…" she began and they all cracked up because Gus certainly didn't get his moves from Brian. Least not his vertical ones and there were years to go before they found out if he'd inherited Brian's penchant and talent for the horizontal mamba. Many, many years, hoped Mel and Lindsay.

All in all it was a pretty good haul: cash, new sketch pads, a set of watercolors, some brushes, a sweater, and a cookbook for brides to be called The Dowry Cookbook given to him by Deb.

"Since you're not having a shower. I hope," she added.

"No, we're having a double bachelor's party," Brian leered. "Lots of naked dancing boys."

"Excuse me," said Justin, "but there's only gonna be one naked dancing boy there and that's only if I get totally bombed."

The festivities over, their guests began to gather their belongings to leave at which Gus began to fuss, sensing that he was not going to be staying with his daddies. Lindsay had explained to him before they'd left home that he wouldn't be staying with Brian and Justin but he didn't remember, of course, cause being with Daddy and Daddy overrode all previous instructions. "Gus," she said, trying to explain again, but he began to pout and grabbed Brian's hand and held it when she attempted to put on his coat. "Gus, you can't stay with Daddy this time."

"No!"

"Gus…"

"Stay."

"Honey, you can't stay. Now, put on your coat, please."

"No!"

Brian lifted him up and held him in his arms. Kissed him. "Daddy and I will see you later this week, okay?" The toddler shook his head. "Gus, you can't stay tonight."

"I want stay."

"I know but not this time. Okay?"

Angry, Gus fidgeted and Brian put him down. He went to Lindsay and let her put his coat on and then found Mel and stayed by her side until it was time to go.

"Gus," said Brian, "you're not gonna give me a kiss goodbye?" Gus stayed where he was. "That's okay," Brian said sadly and he waved at him. "I love you." Justin came and stood by him and watched as Gus struggled with being angry and also wanting to come to his daddies. Finally, the desire to be with them overcame the anger and he returned and hugged them both.

"Luv you," he told them as they exchanged kisses.

Once everyone was gone, Brian and Justin collapsed on the couch and closed their eyes. After a moment, Brian leaned over and nuzzled Justin's neck. "Where were we?"

Justin undid the button on his jeans and parted his lips and Brian kissed him gently. 

 

The moment Joanie heard the key in the lock she realized two things: 1) she should have gotten the key back from Claire; and 2) Claire was going to lose her mind once she found out what was going on, namely, that Brian was buying a fabulous new house and getting married. To another man. It was too late now, too late to gather up the floor plans and swatches and wedding books and decorating manuals. So she waited.

Claire glanced around as she came in, an automatic habit, to see if Joanie had anything she could nibble on. She was a nibbler. Spotting an apple, she picked it up and bit into it before leaning over to buss Joanie's cheek. "Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Claire." She sighed inwardly: Claire had seen.

"What's that?" Sitting, she pawed through Joanie's drawings.

"A house I'm decorating."

Clare picked up the floor plan of the bedroom. "Some rich guy and his stuck-up wife?"

"Actually, it's for your brother."

"Brian lives in a loft," she replied, quite reasonably.

"He's buying a house. He and Justin are moving at the end of the month." Joanie watched her daughter. When Claire had first learned of Brian and Justin on the television and in the newspapers, her response had been predictable: she'd emailed him and told him that she hated him. Which, as far as Brian was concerned, cut her out of his life. He sent presents at holidays and birthdays via Joanie but he'd made a point of not seeing her. They hadn't spoken face-to-face in almost two years.

"Well," said Claire, tossing the drawing onto the table, "good for him."

Joanie raised a brow. Just like Brian, when Claire pretended not to care, it meant she was really affected by something. "There's more."

Snorting, Claire asked, "What? Are they getting married too?" She'd heard about them exchanging rings from her mother and had put it out of her mind.

"Actually, they are. On the fifteenth of February."

Claire nearly choked on her apple. "What?" she shrieked. "And you're letting them!"

"It's Brian's decision. His and Justin's."

"And you're helping them?"

"I don't have a problem with them getting married."

"What about the Church?"

Pretending ignorance, Joanie replied, "They're not getting married in a church. They're—"

"You know what I mean." Claire was not amused. "You almost had an aneurysm just because Bobby wasn't a practicing Catholic but it's okay that Brian's marrying another man?!"

"Times have changed. So have I."

"If Daddy were alive, this would never have happened."

"What? Brian and Justin getting married? You're sadly mistaken if you think Jack could have stopped Brian from doing anything."

"No," Claire said coldly, "but he would have stopped you from helping them."

"Maybe," Joanie conceded. "Maybe I wouldn't have gotten to know Justin at all if Jack were still alive. And that would have been a loss."

"You couldn't stand Bobby."

"He was no good. I think he proved that when he left you."

"But Brian's boyfriend can do no wrong."

"Justin's his partner. And he's made plenty of mistakes, they both have. But they love each other and that's all that matters."

"And it doesn't bother you, thinking about the two of them having sex?" Her face scrunched up on the word sex as if it physically pained her to say it.

"It's none of my business what they do." Truthfully, it still bothered her a wee bit, just a tiny holdover from all of her years of thinking that homosexuality was wrong. It'd helped, a little, being in Woody's, putting up the decorations, seeing men together who were not her son and his lover, helped to desensitize her to the thought of them making love. It no longer disturbed her to watch them kiss, to see them hold hands. Justin liked touching Brian and she'd gotten used to that, gotten used to hearing him call Brian, Pookie, to hearing Brian call him Baby. To be fair to herself, she supposed no parent really enjoyed thinking about their children having sex, no matter their age or sexuality.

"No wonder you didn't want us to move in," Claire said bitterly, spotting a picture of Brian and Justin and Gus on the counter. "You're too busy with your new grandson, your perfect little family, to care about me or my kids."

"Claire, that's not true. I love all my children and my grandchildren." But it was true that she especially adored Gus. He was so loving, so easy to love, and he was still at that age when everything was new and exciting. Being with him was like seeing the world all over again and, in some cases, seeing it for the first time. She treasured their moments together. In fact, if she hadn't been so busy with the house and the wedding plans, she would have missed Claire altogether and would have been over at the loft celebrating Justin's birthday. Now, she wished she had gone.

But Claire wasn't ameliorated by her words. The patronizing tone she believed she heard twisted everything Joanie said and made a lie of it. Angrily, Claire snatched up her coat and purse. "Everything's changed now that Daddy's gone."

"You're right," said Joanie, "everything has changed. For the better."

Claire's mouth dropped open. "How can you say that?"

Joanie took a deep breath. Poor Claire, she'd been in denial about so much because she'd protected her, protected her the way she'd never been able to protect Brian. Because she was a girl she'd been able to shelter her from Jack's rages and if she'd tried to do the same for Brian, things would have been even harder for him. Jack hadn't wanted to baby him, to turn him soft, turn him into a fag. And so he'd hit him and berated him and belittled him and she'd stood by and let it happen because she hadn't had any choice and because she'd wanted him to be tough, to be able to take what the world would give him and survive because she'd known that there were worse people in the world than Jack Kinney. Justin had found that out the hard way. Still, there was no point in telling Claire that, not now. It was too late. "Nothing."

"No, I want to know what you meant."

"Claire!" Joanie half-stood, then sat back down. "Claire, your father was not always a good person."

"He worked hard—"

"And pissed away our money on cheap booze and even cheaper women."

"Maybe if—"

"Don't you dare!" she thundered and she did stand this time and even though Claire was taller than she by some few inches, she towered over her. "You know nothing, nothing about what I went through. What your brother went through."

"Is that why you love him better?"

"Claire—Claire…" It would be funny if it weren't so, so sad. "Brian never thought that I loved him at all." She laughed softly, helplessly. "So many mistakes."

"Well, now you have a chance to fix things." She put on her coat. "With Brian." Taking the half-eaten apple with her, she left. 

 

It wasn't Sans Souci or Papagano's but the lights were down low and votives flickered on the table in their booth and Brian held his hand and they could have been in a swanky restaurant in London or at the McDonald's three blocks from the loft for all he cared.

Brian stroked Justin's fingers with his thumb and his young lover smiled softly. "This place okay?"

"Uh-huh."

Lifting Justin's hand to his lips, Brian kissed his fingers. "I love you."

Justin's reply was interrupted by the waiter returning with their wine. The man hadn't asked to see Justin's ID although he'd known that Justin wasn't twenty-one, at least, he didn't look twenty-one. He barely looked eighteen most days. But the waiter had thrown him a bone since Brian had mentioned that it was Justin's birthday today. When the waiter had asked how old, Brian had replied, "Guess," and the waiter had answered, "Twenty-one," and neither of them had corrected him.

Now, as they lifted their glasses, Brian proposed a toast. "To my Baby on his birthday."

Justin clicked his glass and sipped his wine, then noticed Brian reaching into his jacket pocket. "What are you doing?" Then he saw the wrapped box and said, "I thought we agreed: no presents. Not with the Jeep and the house and the wedding. Brian—"

"I can afford this." He handed the box to his lover. "Go on. Open it."

So Justin, putting aside his wineglass and his objections, opened the present expecting to find jewelry inside. Instead there was a key chain with a picture of them in a plastic rectangular frame.

"Turn it over." On the other side was a picture of their new house. "So you never forget where home is."

Because home was wherever Brian was, wherever they were together. Eyes shiny, Justin sniffled and replied in a thick voice, "I won't forget."

"Allergies?"

He wiped his nose. "Allergies." He turned the cheap plastic key chain in his hands and a tear rolled down his cheek. Brian reached over and thumbed it away. Justin caught his hand and held it in place, kissed his palm. "Thank you." 

 

After dinner they drove to the riverfront and walked in the park. Sat on a bench.

"So this is where you come?" asked Justin.

"Except it's a lot nicer now than it used to be."

"And you just sit here? And think?"

"Look at the water. It helps. Sometimes."

"You can talk to me now."

"Sometimes I need to think about what to say." He grinned. "Wouldn't want my baby cat to get his claws into me."

"Just think, with the new house, you can go out and sit by the pool or under the pergola or in the courtyard or on the balcony or on the loggia upstairs, the loggia downstairs…" He laughed and shook his head. "We're so lucky."

"We deserve this."

Justin agreed. "We do." He snuggled closer to Brian as the night air was getting chillier.

Brian slipped an arm about him. "Cold?"

"Little."

"Ready to go?"

"Maybe."

Brian stood and held out his hand. "Wouldn't want you to catch cold on your birthday." Arms around one another they hurried back to the car. Their warm bed and the rest of the birthday cake awaited them. 

 

Justin kissed and licked frosting from Brian's mouth. "Mmm, you taste good."

"Don't I always?"

Turning and lying in Brian's arms, back to chest, Justin said, "Sometimes, it's like a dream. Us being together." Smiled. "I remember you telling me to 'find a pretty girl and get married.' " Silent. "Did you really mean that?"

"At the time."

"Now look at us. We're getting married."

"And I'm prettier than any girl you could have ever found."

"Cock's bigger too." Brian laughed and turned Justin around to face him. They kissed for a while and then Justin pulled away. "What do you want for a wedding gift?"

"You wanna talk about that now?" His dick was all for tabling the discussion for another time.

Justin propped his chin on Brian's chest and waited for an answer.

"Um… I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. Haven't thought about what I’m getting you either."

"What's left? You've given me everything." Justin sat up and started climbing up his body.

"So have you." He waited until they were face-to-face. "You're everything to me."

Justin shivered. It never failed to go right through him whenever Brian said things like that, making him feel incredibly lucky and incredibly scared. That he was responsible for Brian's happiness, for his well-being. Sometimes he felt small, inadequate to the task and other times knowing that he held Brian's heart in his hands made him feel so strong because Brian wouldn't have given his heart to just anyone. There'd been a time when Brian hadn't trusted him enough, hadn't trusted himself enough to say those words to Justin. At first Justin thought it was because Brian believed the words didn't mean anything but, in reality, they meant too much. As someone who made a living manipulating words, Brian knew their worth, knew the power they wielded and he'd wanted to be sure that he meant what he said, that he was capable of living up to his words. To him, saying I love you meant more than uttering three, tiny words, it was also saying, I love you and I promise to be there for you, to protect you, to support you, to open myself up to you, to give of myself to you, to share my life with you and so many other things that it made Justin's head spin now to think about it. About how much those three, tiny words really meant. And he realized now, having grown older and wiser, that he hadn't really understood all that he'd promised each and every time he'd said them to Brian. Not in the beginning. Maybe deep down inside he did but not consciously. No wonder Brian had been hesitant to believe him, to accept them of him. Gazing into his partner's eyes, his beautiful hazel eyes that he never tired of, he said quite simply, "I love you;" and Brian tightened his arms around him because he had heard all the other words that Justin didn't have to say. 

 

First period studio and Justin came rushing in, breathless, and claimed his seat thirty seconds before class started. The professor raised his eyebrow at his last minute arrival but said nothing.

From a few feet away, Rennie and Xavier grinned, thinking he'd probably been fucking and had lost track of time. Which was true. He'd awakened wanting to have sex and Brian had obliged. Shifting on the hard, wooden seat he grimaced then smiled. Caught a glimpse of Rennie looking at him. She shook her head and turned to her sketch pad.

After class, they sauntered out into the courtyard so that Rennie could have a smoke before their art history class.

"Do you two have sex every morning?" she asked.

"On the good mornings," he replied.

"Then how do you stand it?" she asked Xavier, "since Trey is so far away?"

"We have a lot of phone sex," he answered and laughed. Which was partially true.

Justin made a motion with his hand and snickered.

"Boys," said Rennie disparagingly.

"Oh, like you've never," said Justin.

Xavier added, "She's got a dildo this," and he started to indicate just how big with his hands when she bumped him. "So, you two still celebrating your birthday?"

Justin nodded. "And the buyers are closing on the loft today. So we should be right on time to close on the house."

"Sweet," said Rennie. "When do we get to see stately Wayne Manor?"

"The day we get the keys, everyone can come over and see it. My mom's throwing us a housewarming. Satisfied?"

"They bringing Gus?" she asked.

"Why, you need a date?" Xavier teased.

"He's a hottie but a little young for me."

"Give him fifteen years and he'll be unstoppable," commented Justin.

Rennie thought for a moment. "God, we'll be thirty-five." Shivered. "Christ."

"I don’t think I'll mind being thirty-five."

"Yeah," she said, "cause Brian will be what? Forty-seven? You don't have anything to worry about."

"She's the one facing spinsterhood," Xavier cracked. "Can you see Rennie with kids?"

"Wednesday and Pugsley," Justin replied and dodged Rennie's elbow.

"Hey, Wednesday's my hero," she told them.

"Thought it was Winona in Beetlejuice," said Justin.

"Was. But she's a klepto so I had to kick her to the curb."

Checking his watch, Justin announced, "It's time to go," so Rennie stubbed out her cigarette and they tromped back in for another round. 

 

Having done a thorough walk-through, the couple accompanied Brian and Jenn back to the escrow agent's office and signed the final papers to purchase and transfer ownership of the loft. The loan documents would be sent back to the lender and once the bank was satisfied that everything was copacetic, they would wire funds to the escrow agent who would then have the deed recorded at the County Recorder's Office. As he affixed his signature to the various and sundry pieces of paper, Brian was besieged by a feeling of ambivalence. As per their agreement, the couple would wait until the first of February to take actual possession of the house. By that time, Brian hoped to have all of their belongings packed up and in the U-Haul, ready to take to their new home. He couldn't quite imagine handing the keys to the loft over to someone else although it would happen.

Once the couple had departed, Jenn asked, "Having second thoughts?"

"No," he replied. "The house is fabulous."

"So's the loft."

"True," he said with a smile.

"Well, the good news is that the inspections are done on the house and I'm waiting for the reports. If everything looks good, you could be closing as early as this Friday."

He stretched his neck. "I'll be glad when all of this is over."

They were walking back to the Jeep. "Still have to get settled and plan a wedding, too," she reminded him.

"Did we say February the fifteenth?"

"Sure did."

Opening the door for her, he said, "Too late to change it. We sent the invitations out Saturday."

"I can't wait to get mine."

He laughed. "You're in the wedding. You don’t get one." Disappointment registered on her features and he chuckled. "We had extras. Yours is in the mail." 

 

His phone rang about a half hour after he returned to work. Taking it out of his jacket pocket, he answered, "Yeah."

"So?"

"So, once the money's wired and the deed is registered, the loft is theirs."

"And how long before we can close?"

"Once we've got the money in the bank, we can close on the house. Jenn says we should be able to do that on Friday, Monday at the latest."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "We need to start packing."

"This weekend. We're not taking a lot of furniture, it's mostly kitchen and bath stuff and our clothes. I think we can get all of it done by the first."

Another pause. "Listen, I need to stop by your mom's house tonight to go over some wedding stuff. You wanna have dinner over there?"

"She invite us?"

"Yeah."

"What time?"

"Whenever we get there."

He checked his schedule. "Seven."

"I'll call her and let her know." Pause. "You happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"Later."

"Later, Baby." He snapped the cell shut and replaced it in his jacket. Only he didn’t feel ecstatic. He felt as if he were losing a part of himself. Shaking his head, he tried to put it out of his mind but he couldn't. All afternoon he kept replaying a scene in his head, the first time he'd unlocked the door to the loft and walked inside. He'd sat on the steps and looked around the empty apartment joyfully, planning where everything would go and how it'd look once he was through decorating. Or rather, once the decorator was through decorating. He'd been too busy climbing his way up the ladder to expend any energy on something someone else could do. Despite that, he'd loved the loft the moment he'd seen it. It had spoken to him the way no other space had and he'd known that he'd have to have it. Now it would belong to someone else. A couple of breeders. In the loft. Sleeping in his bed, having sex in it. He frowned. _Don't think about it. Think about you and Justin having sex in the new house._ So he did and it made him feel better.

But he wished there'd been a way to keep the loft and buy the new house. But there hadn't, not unless he wanted to be a landlord and he had no desire to do that. Besides, the new house was beautiful, it was fantastic, it was perfect for the two of them. For the three of them. 

 

Having gone home and changed, Brian met Justin outside of Joanie's place, the both of them arriving at seven on the dot. They dismounted and walked arm and arm to the front door, kissed as they waited for her to answer. Justin pulled away and studied Brian. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Seem… I don't know."

"Hungry," he said.

At the crack of light that appeared in the door, Justin said, "We'll eat first, talk later?"

"Sounds like a plan." He opened the screen door. "Hey, Mom."

"Come in. It's cold out there." She ushered them in and shut the door, then hugged them both. "Dinner's ready."'

"Best news I've heard all day."

"What about the house?" asked Justin.

"What about the house?" asked Joanie.

"The buyers closed on the loft so we'll probably close on the house this week," he told her.

Hugging them each again, she exclaimed, "That's wonderful news. Much better than pot roast."

Brian groused, "When did you get so huggy?"

Justin popped him on the arm. "Behave."

The table already set and the side dishes on the buffet, all they had to do was pile their plates and wait for Joanie to bring out the roast and carve it. For a while there were few words spoken beyond, "Pass the rolls," and "This is pretty good."

"I guess I'll have to come over for another lesson," Justin told her when he saw how much Brian liked her roast.

"Don't you cook any, Brian?" she asked.

"I'm the sous chef. I peel, chop, and dice."

Justin disagreed. "His steak is delicious." Brian raised a brow and Justin laughed. "Stop it."

Deciding that it was time to bring up the subject of Claire, Joanie asked, "Have you sent out the invitations to the wedding?"

"This weekend," answered Justin.

"Did you send one to your sister?" she asked Brian.

"Did you tell her?"

She hesitated. "She came over and saw the plans for the house and the wedding books."

"So she knows."

"She knows."

He waited. "And?" He was sure it would be something hurtful.

"And I think you should invite her. It'd be a nice gesture."

"What did she say?" He wasn't buying it.

"Brian—"

"What did she say?"

Justin reached for him. "Brian…"

"I wanna know," he said firmly.

"She was… upset."

He'd never forgotten the email she'd sent him telling him that she hated him. Never. "Then why the fuck would she want to come?" Justin's hand tightened on his arm.

"She's the only sister you have, Brian."

"Not my fault you and Pop didn't use birth control."

"She took your father's death very hard—"

"She's the only one he didn’t try to beat to death."

Trying one last time, Joanie said, "You're family, Brian. Families should support one another."

"Where was she? Where was she when he came home drunk and tried to kick the shit out of me? Where was she when he hit you?" His mother wouldn't meet his eyes and she had no answer for him. "Exactly. She wasn't there. So fuck her. I don't want her at our wedding, and I don't need her in my life. I have a family, all the family I need."

"You can't blame her for what your father did."

"You're right. She's done enough on her own."

"Brian?" Justin waited until his partner turned his head and acknowledged him. "Maybe all she needs is a chance."

"To do what? Tell me how much she hates me for being gay? This is our wedding. I don't want her fucking that up."

"It wasn't so long ago that I was the one who didn't understand," Joanie reminded him. "Remember? I remember you telling me that you always thought I hated you, that you hated me."

"Mom—"

"Give Claire the benefit of the doubt. Let her see, the way I did, what you and Justin have." _And hope that her bitterness doesn't cause her to do more harm._

"It's our wedding," Justin said. "Do you really think Claire can ruin it? You think anyone can do that?" He raised Brian's hand and kissed the backs of his fingers.

The touch of Justin's lips on his skin soothed him. Calmed him. "Okay. We can invite her. But," he added, "just her. Not those two demon spawn she calls children."

"Brian!" Joanie scolded. "They're your nephews."

"Assholes in training."

"Like she said," Justin joked, "they're your nephews."

Giving him a look, Brian threatened, "You know." When Joanie looked away for a moment, Justin's tongue danced between his parted lips and Brian felt his resolve waver. Fuck. Little asshole. 

 

Brian had fallen quiet the moment they walked inside the loft and Justin wanted to know why. "What's wrong?"

Brushing aside his concerns, Brian replied, "Nothing."

Justin wasn't having it. "Let's try it again. What's wrong?" He led Brian over to the couch and made him sit. Waited.

His sofa, his chairs, his table and chairs, his bed, they were all someone else's now. He was only borrowing them for a short while. Come the first of February and they'd no longer be his in any capacity. Unconsciously, he stroked the arm of the chair.

Watching him, Justin began to understand. The buyers had closed on the loft today and it had finally hit Brian that he was losing his home, a place that had come to define who he was as much as his designer suits and Jeep. Brian had to be feeling incomplete, a little lost. Who was he now? He knew those thoughts were probably racing through Brian's mind, maybe not in those terms but the feelings were there. Softly, Justin said, "I remember walking into the loft that first time and thinking, Shit, this place is fantastic." He smiled. "And then you took off your shirt and poured that water over your head and I couldn't think about anything else at all."

Brian snickered. "You looked like you'd walked into a den of wolves." His eyes fixed on Justin's face. "But you stayed. Even scared to death, you took a chance and you stayed."

"Guess that's what life's about," he said. "Taking chances."

He swept his eyes over the living room. "I guess. Can't stand still."

"Best decision I ever made." He kissed Brian next to his mouth, then turned his head and kissed his lips, held his face in his hands. "Still can't think about anything else when I'm looking at you." He climbed over onto his lap. Brian closed his eyes and Justin pressed his lips to each lid and then his forehead and kissed his way down Brian's cheeks to his mouth.

When they parted for a breath, Brian said, "Just think, we'll have all those rooms to make love in," and Justin laughed.

"And the courtyard, the loggia, the balcony, the pergola, and the pool."

Holding his lover in his arms, Brian whispered, "I’m glad you stayed."

Justin grasped Brian's hair and drew his head back, exposing his swanlike neck, covering it with kisses from the hollow of his throat to his chin and back down again. Unbuttoned his shirt partway as he plied his lips with sweet kisses. Teased his raspberry nipples as he kissed lips of the same color. "You're so beautiful," he said between kisses. Laid his face against Brian's as the man's hands roamed his body, running under his shirt to touch bare, hot flesh. Kissed him again, deeply, tongue stroking tongue. Their mouths hardly parted as Justin managed to get Brian's shirt completely unbuttoned and halfway off his shoulders. Fingers spread over tensing muscles from shoulders to back. Brian grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Mouths pressed tightly together, they strained to close the gaps between their bodies. Justin could feel a fluttering in his belly that caused him to moan into Brian's mouth. Hungrily he fed on his lover's lips, sucking on them until they began to swell. Legs spread, he rubbed his groin against Brian's side as the man cupped his buttocks. Impatient, Brian unzipped his pants and slipped his hands inside to grab his ass. He rubbed harder. Brian pushed the cargo pants down around his legs and stroked his cock through his briefs. Justin expelled a breath and renewed his attack on Brian's lips even as his cock and balls were being squeezed.

Suddenly he was thrown on his back and his pants and underwear dragged over his legs and feet. Brian stood and stripped off the remainder of his clothes, lay down upon his lover. They kissed and rubbed cock against cock, Justin's legs up around Brian's hips. Sitting up, Brian looked down at his young lover and ran his hands over his slender chest and flat belly. Rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock. Lay back down upon him and kissed him hard. "Hold on," he told Justin and he did, wrapping arms and legs around his partner. Brian got up, Justin clinging to him, and walked to the bedroom, muscles bulging slightly with the task of carrying his little boy.

Laying Justin down upon the bed, Brian stretched out upon him and they joined mouths, kissing one another so deliciously, so deeply that their dicks began to swell as well as their lips. Justin turned them over so that he was on top. Moved back and forth, dragging his cock over Brian's belly. Every now and again he would peck Brian's lips, teasing him. Brian palmed his ass and spread his cheeks, fingering his hole as the young man ground his dick into him.

Justin pulled away and knelt between Brian's legs. Parted them and slid his hands up and down his long, slender thighs. His cock was hard and lay flat against his belly, his balls high and firm. Placing his palm over cock and balls, Justin rotated his hand, rubbing Brian slowly, gradually closing his fingers over the shaft to stroke him. Lowered his head and kissed the tip. Again. His tongue flicked over and under. Lips closed about the tip and sucked. Brian groaned and he released him. Licked him from his balls to just below the cap of his cock. Teased the spot where the shaft and head joined. Traced the divide to the opening in the tip. Washed it with his saliva. And sucked him again.

Stretched out, gripping the low headboard, Brian raised his hips from the bed as Justin blew him. His lover's hands were beneath his hips, holding him in place as he sucked his cock, fingers occasionally straying between his cheeks. God, Justin was so different from that seventeen-year-old who hadn't even known what rimming was. He was a man now, in knowledge and body. A man who made love to his partner with confidence and skill. Spreading his legs open even wider, Brian began to pant as Justin devoured his cock. He was about to come.

Grasping his cock by the shaft, Justin stroked Brian until he knew the man was about to ejaculate. Pulling down on his balls, he pressed his finger at the spot just beneath the head of his cock and held on while Brian climaxed. He didn't ejaculate but the orgasm was no less satisfying because of it. When Brian had calmed down, Justin released him and lay next to him, his cock brushing against his hip. Plied his nipples as he kissed him gently. 

 

Jennifer could imagine that the sales lady had never seen three more dissimilar people come in together than her, Joanie, and Deb. Although Joanie was dressed tastefully you only had to look in her eyes to see that she'd never been in a shop like this before and Deb, well, Deb was completely out of her element. She'd eschewed wearing either of the dresses she'd bought for the trial and came in her usual garb: t-shirt and comfortable slacks. As the woman approached, Jenn took control. "Hello, we're attending a wedding. Actually, two of us are in the wedding party."

"Mothers of the bride and groom?" ventured the sales lady whose name tag read Barbara.

"Mothers of the grooms," she replied. Joanie looked a little uncertain but here Debbie was on familiar ground.

"And I'm a friend of the grooms."

"Well," Barbara ventured, "what color dresses do you require?"

"Silver for us and, Debbie?" began Jennifer.

"Whatever'll fit," she said, cackling.

Barbara gestured to a settee and armchair. "Please, have a seat and we'll bring out some selections."

Taking their seats, the three women smiled at how well it was going so far.

Deb gazed around at the tasteful appointments and whistled. "I could pay the mortgage with what this dress is probably going to cost."

"Don't worry," Joanie assured her, "Brian's taking care of it. Just find something you like."

Patting Joan on the hand, Deb asked, "Did you ever imagine we'd be out shopping for dresses to wear to Brian and Justin's wedding?"

"I used to imagine Brian getting married when he was younger, the kind of girl he'd marry." She laughed. "Justin's nothing like what I imagined."

Jenn laughed too. "Well, Brian's not exactly what I had in mind either." She covered her mouth momentarily. "He took some getting used to."

"And you've only known him for a few years. When he was younger, my God… He's mellowed some." All three laughed at the idea of Brian having mellowed but it was true, he had mellowed and it was due primarily to Justin.

"He was lucky to have had you in his life," Joan told Deb although she'd told her that once before.

"Honey—"

"It's true. And he's lucky to have Justin. They're so happy together."

Thinking back to when she'd first found out about Brian, Jennifer said, "I remember the first time I saw him. At the art show at the Gay and Lesbian Center."

"You looked like your head was going to blow off," said Deb.

"All I kept thinking was, He's a grown man. Justin doesn't know what he's getting into."

Deb agreed. "He didn't have a clue. But somehow he knew that it was worth it, that Brian was worth it."

"They haven't been easy on each other."

"Carrying on the family tradition. Jack and I…" She shook her head.

"Well, Craig and I didn't do too badly in the shouting department," confessed Jennifer. Looked up as Barbara returned.

"I think you'll like these," she said and the store attendants came out with a selection of silver dresses for Jenn and Joanie to look at and a number of dresses for Deb to view.

In the end, both Jennifer and Joanie chose a three-piece silver ensemble with a long skirt, sleeveless shell, and a jacket. Jennifer's jacket was made of lace and the skirt was lace with a silk lining; while Joanie's entire outfit was solid silk with embroidered flowers around the edges of the jacket. Debbie found a two-piece outfit in navy blue: flowing silk skirt topped by a three-quarter length sweater shot through with shiny threads.

"Oh, this is beautiful," she exclaimed, looking at herself in the mirror. "Is it really me?"

With their purchases slung over their arms, the three women departed the store for a late lunch.

"Have the boys said anything more about the ceremony?" Jenn asked Joan while they waited for their salads to arrive.

"No. I know they're meeting with Rev. Ophelia this week to firm up their plans."

Taking a sip of iced tea, Deb said, "I just hope I don't have to read any poetry or anything like that. All I want is to get through the day without looking like a raccoon."

Jennifer held her glass between her hands. "It's still hard to believe. My son's getting married."

"Yep," said Deb. "Married with a ready-made family. And a new house."

"I can't wait until you see it," Jenn told them. "It's perfect for them."

"I've been looking at furniture for Gus' room," said Joanie. "He's going to love it."

"So you've seen it?" asked Deb.

"No. I'm working from the floorplans."

"What's with all the secrecy?"

"I think," explained Jennifer, "they don't want to jinx it. Plus, it's not really theirs until the check clears. But the moment they close, you're all invited over for a housewarming. My treat."

The waiter arrived with their salads and for a moment all conversation stopped as they began to eat. Then, in between one bite and the next, Joanie paused and said, "I can't believe it," and Jenn and Deb smiled because they knew exactly what she meant. 

 

Over dinner, Justin said suddenly, "Oh. Did you send your sister an invitation?"

Rolling his eyes, Brian replied, "Yeah, I did. I sent it off today." As if that'd be enough. Joanie wanted to have a family dinner next week to give Claire a chance to meet Justin before she saw him standing before her exchanging vows with her brother. Justin thought it was a good idea. Brian wanted to schedule a frontal lobotomy for that day.

"So, I guess that's it for invitations. I hope everybody gets theirs in time."

"It's three weeks away. Besides, the only people who aren't local are Nana Rose and Kenneth."

Justin laid his fork down. "Did you say Kenneth?"

"Uh-huh."

"You invited him?"

Unaware of the danger, Brian said nonchalantly, "Yeah. I called him today."

Taking a deep breath first, Justin said, "You could have asked me first."

"For what?" Brian still hadn't caught on.

"Because I might not have wanted him at our fuckin' wedding."

Looking up quickly, Brian asked, "Why not?" He was endeavoring to keep calm; one of them should be.

"Because he's in love with you!" What the hell was wrong with Brian?

"So. Xavier's gonna be there. Least I never fucked Kenneth." So much for keeping calm.

"No, you went out and fucked three strangers."

"That you'll never have to see. Whereas you're forever shoving Xavier in my fuckin' face."

"You don't want him at the wedding?"

"I don’t care."

"No, obviously, you do."

"I don't have a problem with him being there. He's your friend. I'll get over it."

"And Kenneth's your friend?"

"Yeah, he is. So you get over it." He pushed from the table and carried his plate to the kitchen.

Justin followed with his own, his appetite gone as well. "I can't."

"You accepted a commission from him. If you have such a problem with him, why take his money?"

"Because it's business. Just because I'm doing a job for him doesn’t mean I want to eat dinner with him or have him dance with you at our wedding."

"What are you afraid of? That we're gonna slip away and have sex in the guest room?"

Putting his plate in the dishwasher, Justin said angrily, "Forget it."

Brian caught him by the arm. "No, I'm not gonna forget it. I wanna know what you're so afraid of."

"I know that you're attracted to him."

It would have been funny except that there was nothing funny about their argument. "You were in love with Xavier."

"I chose you."

"And don't you understand that from the moment I met you, there's never been anyone else?" He cupped Justin's face. "I love you. You. Not Kenneth, not Mikey, you. Don't you know that?" Justin laid his head upon Brian's chest and embraced him. "But if you don't want him there—"

"Let him come." Suddenly, he felt very foolish. How could he feel insecure when Brian said things like that? "I can give him the first drawing I owe him."

That night as Justin slept, Brian wondered if he'd done the right thing after all by inviting Kenneth. Despite the way he'd explained it to Justin, he'd felt plenty of ambivalence about inviting the biochemist. Had hesitated more than once before calling him.

Kenneth had tried to sound happy for him, had congratulated him and thanked him for thinking of him. Assured him that he'd try to be there if his schedule permitted.

If his schedule permitted. Brian was certain that was a feeble attempt on Harris' part to deal with his own feelings of disappointment. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they'd severed the connection, each one left feeling unsatisfied by their conversation, by the things they hadn't said.

 _Why did you call him?_ he asked himself. Hearing Kenneth's voice had stirred something in him, there was no doubt of that. But he was a grown man, he could control his urges, his desires. They could be friends without giving into the attraction between them, he was sure of it. Still…

Reaching over, he stroked Justin's back then moved closer and embraced him. He stirred in his sleep, then settled down again. Brian kissed his shoulder and closed his eyes.

Mel opened the door while pulling her blouse down over her chest.

"My eyes," exclaimed Brian, having glimpsed her breasts.

"Shut up, asshole." Leaving him to shut the door, she stomped upstairs to finish dressing. "Lindsay, the babysitter's here!"

"Daddy!" shouted Gus from the second floor. In an instant he was coming down the stairs, quickly but carefully, his lesson with the steps not forgotten yet. Brian caught him as he reached the bottom and hugged him. "Daddy."

"Hey, Sonny Boy. You glad to see me?"

"Yeah."

Brian nuzzled him with his nose. "Yeah?"

Gus giggled. "Yeah." Looked around for Justin. "Where Daddy?"

"Work."

The toddler hugged him again as if to make up for not being able to hug Justin. "Luv you."

"I love you too," Brian told him and held him that much longer.

"So," said Lindz coming down the stairs with Gus' overnight bag and his SpongeBob backpack. "He has to be at school by eight thirty. Don't forget."

"I won't forget."

She kissed Gus and went to get his coat. Brian put him down so that she could get it on and zipped and buttoned. "Gonna miss me?" Dutifully, he nodded. "I'll miss you too. Thanks for taking him, Bri. Mel and I haven't gone out in two weeks."

"You realize this means we'll have to do it on the couch tonight."

She covered her eyes. "Bri!"

"And that you and Mel have to be the wedding directors." Justin had broached the subject with them previously and both of them had hedged a little. He held out his hand. "Deal?"

She shook it. "Deal."

Mel came back downstairs carrying Beh which she handed to the toddler before kissing him. "See you tomorrow, baby."

"Bye-bye." He waved as they left the house. "Bye-bye."

Brian strapped him into his car seat and got in on the driver's side. "You ready, Sonny Boy?"

"Yeah."

"Hungry?"

"Uh-huh."

"How about Beh?"

Gus asked the bear and nodded. "He hungry."

"How about we go to the diner and see Daddy Justin?"

"Yeah!" shouted Gus. 

 

Justin heard Gus before they got inside and smiled, waiting for them to enter the diner. He squatted and held open his arms, closing them around the baby. "I missed you."

"Miss you."

They exchanged kisses. "You staying with us tonight, staying with me and Daddy?"

"Uh-huh."

He walked Gus to a booth and helped him into the seat. Stood upright as Brian embraced him from behind and kissed his neck. "Hey."

"Hey."

"The couch?"

"It's a date." Loathe as he was to release Justin, he did so and sat next to Gus. "You having dinner with us?"

"Yeah, I didn't take a break so I'm done. What do you want?"

Brian checked with Gus. "You want some meatloaf?" The baby thought and nodded. He knew what meatloaf was now. He liked it. "I guess we'll have the meatloaf."

" 'kay." He went to put in their orders and brought back three low glasses which he filled with water. Put a straw in Gus' and carried the pitcher of water back to the counter.

"Where's Deb?"

"Had to run to the drugstore." He took off his apron and sat counting his tips and recording the amount on his pad.

Medicine for Vic probably. Which got Brian to thinking about their future, about the possibility that something might happen to him. To either of them. They needed to make plans. But now was not the time to broach the topic. Not with Gus there and not in a public place.

"What?" asked Justin.

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Brian laughed. "It can wait."

"What's so funny?"

"You. You always know, don't you?"

Justin's answer was interrupted by the cook ringing to let him know his order was ready. Taking his apron with him to hang up in the back, he retrieved their plates and set them on the table.

Barely waiting for Brian to cut up his meatloaf, Gus began spooning mashed potatoes in his mouth.

"Definitely inherited your appetite," Brian commented but Justin couldn't respond as his mouth was full of mashed potatoes too. 

 

By eight thirty Brian was ready to crawl into bed but Gus and Justin were still raring to go. They'd danced and sung for half an hour and played hide-and-go-seek and tag and were at the moment trying to erect a house of colored blocks. Grateful for a few minutes of quiet, Brian stretched out on the bed intending to take a brief nap. When he awoke, Gus was lying half on his chest and Justin was on his side fast asleep. So much for the couch. 

 

With ten minutes to get the rest of his notes together and make it to the meeting, he cursed when the phone rang. "Shit." Snatched it from the cradle. "Make it fast."

"We're closing tomorrow."

Brian chuckled. "What time?"

"Meet me at the house for a walk-through at eight and then we can head over to the escrow office to sign the final papers. I'm faxing them over to you today."

"Sweet. We'll see you there." Hung up before she could say anything else because he now had eight minutes to get the rest of his notes together and make it to the meeting. 

 

That evening he came home to the smell of steak grilling on the stove. "God, I love you," he announced as he put his briefcase down.

"I know," Justin said and waited for him to come over. They kissed.

"Guess what."

"What?"

Brian took off his jacket and went to the bedroom to undress. "We're closing tomorrow."

Running after him, Justin leapt into his arms. They fell into bed kissing. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I just did."

"When did you find out?"

"Your mom called around two this afternoon."

"Why didn’t you call me?"

"I was heading to a meeting and I didn't have time." He kissed him. "Forgive me?"

Justin nipped his ear. "Forgiven." He smiled and kissed Brian again. Then, "Shit! The steaks." Jumped off the bed and hurried to salvage dinner while Brian laughed and changed clothes.

Over dinner, he decided it was time to broach the subject of making plans for the future. "I think we need to talk to the attorney, have him draw up some papers."

"What kind of papers?"

"In case something happens to one of us."

"You mean a will?"

"A will, power of attorney, setting up a Living Revocable Trust."

"What's a Living Revocable Trust?"

"If I have a LRT, I can put the house and any other property I have like checking accounts, saving accounts, and retirement funds into it and manage it for your benefit. So if I drop dead, you can take immediate control of our assets without having to go to court."

Justin looked down. "I don't want to think about that."

"Maybe," said Brian, reaching over and lifting his chin, "but it's important. What's ours is ours and I don't want anyone trying to take anything away from you."

"What about Gus?"

"We can specify what goes to Gus if something happens to either of us. And once we're both gone, he can inherit."

Brian was right, it was important, he just wished he didn't have to think about it now. "Can we wait until after the wedding?"

"Have to. I don’t think we can squeeze one more thing into the three weeks we have left," he laughed.

"Don't forget, we have to see Rev. Ophelia tomorrow night."

Covering his reaction by having a last bit of steak, Brian chewed reflectively, then asked, "Do we have any idea as to what we want to do?"

"You mean have I come up with something?"

"If you want to put it that way." Justin said nothing. "Well?"

"Well, I think Lindsay's right, we should have poetry."

"I'm not reading any poetry."

"I'm not asking you to. I think she and Vic should read some. They've got great voices."

"Okay, so Em and Ted are ushers, Mikey's my best man, Lindz and Vic are reading poetry, and Mel and Lindz are the wedding directors. What about Deb?"

They both thought and thought. "There's nothing really left for her to do. And she gets so emotional," Justin reminded him.

"Mmm," said Brian without saying anything more on the subject. "So, look, if you've got class or something tomorrow morning cancel it."

"What for?"

"We have to do the walk-through and then go sign the papers."

"You have to sign the papers."

"Yeah, but it's our house so we need to do the walk-through. So keep tomorrow morning open."

Softly, Justin replied, "Okay."

Mind on practicalities, Brian said, "We should probably give the house a good cleaning before we move in."

And since they were ending their maid service that meant they needed to do it. "It's a big house."

"Your mom's throwing us that housewarming on Saturday. Maybe we can have the guys come over early and help us out. Call the rest of the cast of Real World: Pittsburgh and get them in on it too."

"Sure?" Since their big blowup about Kenneth, Justin hadn't mentioned Xavier or Rennie since Xavier was obviously still a sore spot for Brian. And he understood why, he just wished that it weren't.

"The more hands we have helping, the easier it'll be and the sooner we'll get it done."

Dinner dishes cleared away, Justin declared that it was time to practice their first dance. "If we get up there and make complete fools of ourselves, I'm holding you responsible," he told Brian.

"I looked good at the prom, didn't I?"

"Yeah." God, he had.

"All right then."

"How did you manage that?" They hadn't practiced together and he couldn't see Brian taking lessons for one night.

"A friend of mine." Former trick. "He's a pro. Gave me some tips."

"You asked? For me?"

"For me. Bad enough being old without being fuckin' clumsy too."

"You're not clumsy, just a little stiff." He rubbed Brian's belly through his shirt. "And you're not old. You were the hottest guy there."

Finding the CD in amongst the others, he popped it in the player. Assuming the position in the middle of the floor, they had a rocky start which made Justin wonder if maybe Brian hadn't gone to a hypnotist and then he looked down and discovered the problem.

"We're wearing the wrong shoes." Pausing, they went and put on their dress shoes and began again. This time they had a smoother start and after a while they fell into familiar rhythms. Even without a mirror, Justin knew they looked great together.

When the song ended, Brian parted from him and cut off the CD. "That good enough?"

"You know, we could practice some more," Justin suggested as he loved dancing with Brian.

Taking hold of Justin's shirt, Brian tugged him towards the bedroom. "Just what I had in mind." 

 

Now that they'd purchased a few pieces of furniture, being in the house again gave them both butterflies in their stomachs, imagining their new bed in the master suite and the dining table in the family room. It also made them painfully aware of how much was left to do. While they toured the house, Jenn went through the inspection checklist thoroughly.

Glancing around the family room, Brian said, "We really should buy a couple of sofas and some chairs for in here before the wedding. In case people don't want to dance, they can sit down and watch TV or something."

"Hey, I meant to tell you. Your mom—"

"She has a name."

"I just feel weird calling her Joanie."

"You call Deb Deb and my mom's only a little older than her."

"I know but it's different. Deb is Deb and your mom is… She's like my mother-in-law or something."

"She's not like your mother-in-law, she is your mother-in-law. Or soon will be."

"Which is why I feel strange calling her Joanie."

"Well, don't call her Mother Kinney. She hates that. Claire's husband used to call her that, drove her apeshit."

"Anyway," Justin said to try and put them back on track, "she found this cool site with bathroom stuff for kids, like lower toilets and stuff and I thought maybe we should think about replacing the toilet in the guest bath with a lower one."

"Yeah, except that when we have guests, they'll have to squat lower to use it. And Gus has a stool to stand on." A sickeningly cute stool with a whale cutout forming each side. It totally clashed with the loft but it'd fit right in the new house.

"Still…"

"We'll think about it," Brian said which meant he wasn't really going to think about it, he was just putting Justin off. Which Justin knew. It kinda made him angry but he also knew that it was just Brian's way. Brian must have realized that Justin was onto him because he leaned over and pecked him on the head. "Really."

Justin laughed. "You are so full of shit."

They met Jenn in the kitchen. "Well?" Brian asked.

"Everything checks out. I think we're ready."

Eyes alight with joy, Justin inhaled deeply. "Just think, this time tomorrow, it'll be ours."

"Not officially," she said. "Not until the deed is registered. But I'm sure the Baumanns won't mind handing over the keys today." Gathering her papers, she told them, "I got my invitation in the mail yesterday. It's beautiful."

"Justin designed it."

"Well, I think everything might just be ready by the time the fifteenth comes."

Laughing, Brian said, "You didn't tell me your mom had a problem with reality."

"She's optimistic."

They followed her in the Jeep over to the escrow agent's office where Mr. Withers, the Baumann's real estate agent, and the Baumanns themselves were waiting for them.

"Mr. Kinney," said Mrs. Baumann, holding out her hand, which he shook.

"Mrs. Baumann."

"And this is…?" she asked, glancing at Justin.

"Justin. My partner." Luckily, Justin had worn a dark rust-colored sweater and a brown suede jacket he'd picked up this fall which meant he looked maybe nineteen.

Withers looked as if he'd swallowed lye. "I thought you said he was an artist."

"He is."

Justin smiled. Brian had warned him about this guy. "I'm a student at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts."

Before anyone could ask any further questions, Jennifer said, "Honey, you can sit over here," indicating a chair next to the one she intended to occupy.

"Thanks, Mom."

Even Mr. Baumann looked up at that and he'd previously been studying the papers to make sure everything was proper and above board. "He's your son?"

"Yes, he is," replied Jennifer and she sat up straighter and reached for Justin's hand. Squeezed it briefly.

"Hmm," was the only further comment the man made. "Well," he said to the escrow agent, "I think everything looks good. Mr. Kinney?"

"Looks fine to me."

"You have the check?"

He'd stopped by the bank and had the certified check drawn for the amount of the down payment. He removed it from his jacket pocket.

From his vantage point slightly behind the primary participants, Justin was able to appreciate how smoothly Brian interacted with the Baumann's, flirting just the right amount with Mrs. Baumann, being direct with Mr. Baumann, while managing at all times to snub their agent.

Once all the papers were signed and the monies exchanged, Mr. Baumann reached into his pocket and produced two sets of keys. Handed them to Brian and shook his hand. "Nice doing business with you, Mr. Kinney." Said to the escrow agent, "You'll send me a copy of the papers? Good. Carol." Nodding curtly to his ex-wife, he departed.

Mrs. Baumann offered a warmer congratulations, pressing Brian's hand and saying, "I hope you enjoy your new home, Mr. Kinney."

Glancing at Justin, he said, "I'm sure we will."

Waiting until they were outside, Brian and Justin kissed and laughed. Brian gave him one set of the keys which Justin immediately put on his new keychain. Jennifer hugged them both.

"Congratulations."

Brian pecked her on the cheek. "Thanks, Jenn. We couldn't have done it without you."

"I know you'll be very happy there."

Smiling broadly, Justin embraced Brian and kissed him again. "I can't believe it's really ours."

"And we've still got about a thousand things to do before we can move in." He eased Justin away, thinking of the immediate concerns. "Utilities. I'll get Cynthia on that this afternoon." He needed to close out his accounts on the loft and open new ones at the Whitman Drive address. They also needed to contact the security company that handled the alarm system at the house and—

"Brian?"

He looked around. "Huh?"

"We've got a list, remember?"

Fuck. They did. They'd made it weeks ago after making the offer on the house. "Sorry, Baby."

Jenn shook her head in amusement. "So, what time should we meet tomorrow at the house for the housewarming?"

"Actually," Justin told her, "we've decided to make it a cleaning housewarming. So wear old clothes."

"What time?"

"Early. That way Brian and the guys can go look for tuxes in the afternoon."

"I'd better call and let everyone know then. Nine okay?"

"Perfect, Mom." He kissed her again. "Thanks. For everything."

"You're welcome, Honey. I love you."

"Love you too. Later."

They watched her drive away and then Brian asked, "So what are you going to do the rest of the day?"

"Well, after you take me to lunch, I'm going to work. Pick me up around five thirty so we can meet with Rev. Ophelia."

"Where are we having lunch?"

"Anyplace but the diner. That meatloaf gave me indigestion the other night."

Waving his hand in front of his face, Brian said, "You don't have to tell me."

Justin pushed him with his shoulder. "Shut up and take me to lunch."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"You'll want some," Justin threatened and Brian laughed and climbed inside the Jeep. 

 

He was still wearing a grin when he met Justin later that afternoon. "Hey."

Justin checked out the smile. "You're in a good mood. What gives?"

"I'm happy," he said simply. "We should hit the mattress store while we're out."

"Your mom called about the bed; it'll be delivered next Saturday just like they promised."

"Least we'll have somewhere to sleep. I talked to the contractors. They can start on the bathroom next month. They'll pull out all the fixtures and install the new ones, then put up the new shower and the partitioning wall."

"How long is it gonna take?"

"Three weeks tops." He glanced up at the stoplight, waiting for it to change. "And the dining table and chairs and side board are probably getting here next week." Pulled away from the light and went a few blocks before turning left. "My mom may have to house sit during the day if we can't get exact delivery dates."

"She'll probably be there anyway, measuring for curtains and stuff. We need to make sure that our online service is turned on right away. She can use your laptop."

Both of them having seemingly run out of conversation for the moment, Brian drove in silence until they neared the rectory.

"I hope Rev. Ophelia's got something good for us."

"Hungry?" asked Brian, which wouldn't have surprised him.

"No, I mean for the wedding," Justin replied, a little perturbed by Brian's assumption.

"O-kay." Warning himself to be on his best behavior, he vowed to stay on Justin's good side for the rest of the evening.

Greeting them at the door, Rev. Ophelia led them to her office and promptly left them. Returned with a tray of tea and a plate of cookies and cakes. "I figured you probably left work and came straight here." Said to Brian, "Nice suit."

"Thanks." He wanted to kiss her. Maybe if Justin ate something he'd be a little less grouchy.

But the young man took one cookie and placed it on a dessert plate and set it on the low table between the sofa where they sat and the chair where Rev. Ophelia was perched happily munching on a cookie. Finishing, she took a sip of tea and wiped her mouth. "Now that I feel a little more civilized, let's get to business. I have a list here of possible pieces of music to play during the ceremony and Justin told me on the telephone that you're going to have some poetry read as well. So, the prelude music plays while your guests settle down and at six sharp—if a miracle on the scale of the parting of the Red Sea occurs—we'll start with the procession. Everyone comes out and takes their places and I go into "Dearly Beloved, blah blah blah blah blah. Then there's a short prayer and I speak a little about what marriage is and what it means. After that there's a short musical interlude and the poetry you've selected is read. Generally, we play a song after that and then another short prayer."

"That's a lot of praying," Brian commented.

"I get paid by the prayer," she told him in a deadpan voice and Justin laughed. "Now, after that we need to decide if we want to do the 'I do' part and then have the blessing of the families or do the blessing of the families first and then the 'I do's.' "

"What's the blessing of the families?" asked Justin.

"It used to be the part where the priest would ask the father of the bride if he gave her to be married but now people are beginning to replace that with the blessing of the families. Basically, I ask them if they give their love, their blessings, and their support to your union. Then I ask the same of the congregation and afterwards the mothers of the grooms sit and we continue with the ceremony. If we do the blessings first, then we'll do the 'I do' part and move onto the vows. Now, have you decided if you'd like to speak before the traditional exchange of vows?"

Justin exchanged glances with Brian and began to speak when Brian spoke up instead. "I think we should say something." Pause. "About why we're getting married." Waited for Justin's reaction. His partner said nothing but he picked up his plate and nibbled on his cookie with a look of contentment on his face. Brian was hard-pressed not to laugh.

"All right, then you'll speak and afterwards we'll do the 'I do's,' I'll bless the rings and you'll exchange them. And then I pronounce you…"

"Yes?" said Justin.

"What would you like to be called? Partners for Life? Domestic Partners? Spouses? Husband and husband? Married? We have to say something."

"I like Partners for Life." Checked with his partner. "What about you?"

Brian said, "I can live with that."

"And then I say 'You may kiss your partner' and after you're through—"

"You'll give us a few minutes, won't you?" asked Brian, smirking.

"You light the commitment candle," she said as if he hadn't interrupted, "and if you have a special gift you'd like to present to anyone you can do it here."

"Special gift?" asked Brian.

"Sometimes the participants like to give gifts to their grandparents or someone special who's supported them."

"Oh," he replied. That was it. Everything was falling into place.

"And then..." she teased.

"Another prayer," supplied Brian.

"And the benediction and I introduce you to the congregation. So, how does that sound?"

"Long," said Brian and received a sharp look from Justin.

"It sounds great, Rev. Ophelia."

"And then the wedding directors will take over and my job will be done. I plan on drinking lots of champagne and having a huge slice of cake."

"Wait until you see the cake. It's perfect."

She smiled, pleased by his excitement. "I'm sure it is. So, if everything sounds good to you, I'll get you a draft of the text next week. That way you can look it over, see if you disagree with anything."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Justin assured her.

"Still, to be on the safe side. Then you can have the programs printed up in plenty of time. And I'll need directions to the house."

"I'll fax them to you," Brian said, "with a map of the neighborhood."

Business settled, she asked them about their other arrangements. "You've found a caterer then?"

"Highway robbers you mean," groused Brian. "You'd think they were serving pheasant under glass instead of dried out chicken and mauled beef."

Justin shook his head. "Don't listen to him. The food was amazing."

"Tuxes all ready?"

"Coming in next week so we can get them altered a little."

She was impressed. "You two seem to have everything under control."

"Well," he confessed, "Brian's mom helped out a lot and we still haven't gotten the flowers yet. We're buying silk ones and doing the arrangements ourselves. And the decorations."

"What's your theme?"

"A Winter Wonderland."

"Sounds beautiful."

Justin smiled. "It will be. No matter what." Because they were going to be married and it didn't matter if they did it under a tree in the backyard, all that mattered was that afterwards they would be partners, beginning their new life together. 

 

Setting his glass of wine down on the night stand, Brian wrapped his arms around Justin and held him. "Last week in the loft." They had skipped the mattress store reasoning that they could get it sometime next week.

"Last week in this bed."

"I can't believe breeders are gonna be breeding in my bed."

"You have a child so, technically, you're a breeder too," Justin told him, grinning in anticipation of Brian's response.

"We have a child." Laughed. "I don't think anyone would call you and me, and Mel and Lindsay breeders."

Justin agreed. Cocked his head. "Probably shouldn't waste what little time we have left then."

"Oh? I thought you were the one threatening to hold out?"

"Changed my mind." He brushed his finger over Brian's nipple, felt it tense. "Please, Pookie."

Pulling Justin up so that they were eye-level to one another, Brian asked, "What do you want?"

Justin kissed him hard. "Everything."

"You're in luck then," Brian told him, "cause that's just what I have." 

Part 2 - next chapter


	15. One Hand, One Heart ~ Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin buy a new house and hold a commitment ceremony. Part 2

Unfortunately, it took them half the night to get through 'everything' and when the morning came, they were both exhausted. Shading his eyes, Brian checked the clock. "Fuck."

"What?" murmured Justin.

"It's eight o'clock."

"Fuck." He threw off the covers and got to his feet, stumbled to the bathroom.

Raising a brow, Brian licked his lips as he watched Justin's plump cheeks disappear from sight. "Well, you know what they say about the hair of the dog…"

Although they had very little time to play, Justin wasn't about to turn Brian down, especially when he came bearing soap. Pretty soon, Justin was leaning back against Brian and breathing hard as the man soaped his thighs and belly, his chest and neck. Each time the bar encircled his nipples or crossed his belly, his cock twitched. Suds covered most of his torso and back, his buttocks were streaked.

Abandoning the soap, Brian turned to kissing his lover's neck and shoulders, his cheeks, chin, and lips as he rubbed him all over, Justin guiding his hands to the places he wanted to be touched. So they'd be a little late. The party couldn't start without them. After all, it was their housewarming. 

 

Cars were parked in the driveway and along the street outside Joanie's place and their friends and family were waiting with barely disguised impatience as they pulled up in their respective vehicles. Justin checked his watch for the fourth time. "We're only fifteen minutes late," he said to himself.

Brian grumbled, "They'll get over it." Parking, they hopped out to greet a chorus of inquisitive faces. "We overslept," Brian explained as Gus ran over to be picked up and hugged.

"Over-fucked," murmured Emmett.

"That too," agreed Ted.

Brian flicked his tongue and said, "Breakfast of champions."

Interrupting their banter before it descended any lower, Justin said, "Can we go now?" He leaned in to kiss Gus and rubbed noses.

Cautiously, Jennifer asked, "Are your friends coming?"

Despite her having asked Justin, everyone's eyes darted towards Brian. "He's picking them up on the way over." Abruptly, he announced, "Let's get this wagon train on the move."

There was no question of Gus riding anywhere else but in the back seat of the Jeep. Since Justin was driving as well, Joanie rode with Brian and Gus. Mel and Lindz had their car; Ted, Emmett, and Michael took Ted's car; Vic and Deb were in her car; and Jenn drove with Molly and the food in tow.

Although they started out together, at some point Justin left the caravan to pick up Xavier and Rennie and stoplights and traffic managed to separate the rest but only for a little while. Eventually, the five remaining cars pulled onto Whitman Drive in a row.

"Close your eyes," Brian told Joanie and she did so, heart beating rapidly. She couldn't wait to see the house.

"Ritzy neighborhood," observed Emmett as they passed house after fancy house, all with manicured lawns and tasteful landscaping. "I guess Brian and Justin got lucky, found something reasonable."

Michael shook his head and Ted, who also knew how much the house cost, said, "Depends on your definition of reasonable."

Debbie's hands trembled a little on the steering wheel. "Oh my God, can you believe this place? It's like Beverly Hills."

"And we're the Hillbillies," joked Vic.

Eyes wide open, Mel and Lindz gazed around with undisguised awe. "It's like Home and Garden heaven," said Lindz.

Mel was suitably impressed as well but kidded, "If I ever see Brian in a Mrs. Miniver hat, then I'll know the world is ending."

Pausing briefly, Brian pulled into 1517 Whitman Drive, the smooth asphalt of the driveway carrying them all the way up to the house. He parked closest to the kitchen door and said, "Okay. Open them."

Despite having floor plans and descriptions of the house, she was instantly overwhelmed and covered her mouth for a moment. "Brian… it's beautiful."

He unstrapped Gus and took him out of the back. Held his hand to keep him from getting entangled with the oncoming cars. "It'll be even more beautiful once you're done with the inside." Brian squatted and pointed to the house. "See the house?" Gus nodded. "That's where Daddy and Daddy Justin are gonna live. You like it?" Gus nodded and hid his face in Brian's shirt, a little overwhelmed himself.

One by one the cars parked in the yard and the stunned occupants dismounted, all except Jennifer who had gotten used to the house on her numerous trips out there to meet with inspectors. Still, it was amazing.

"Vic, Vic, it's just like the houses we saw in Italy," Deb said, gripping her brother's arm.

"Can we go inside?" asked Lindsay, anxious to see the rest.

"We should wait for Justin. He'll be here in a few minutes. You can walk around the front yard if you want. But no peeking in the windows," he warned.

So as he leaned against the Jeep and watched, the rest of them wandered about the yard trying not to look inside the house, wanting to wait until Justin arrived and they could go in en mass. Still, they marveled at the tower and the gated entry and the beautiful windows that they couldn't look through. By the time Justin drove up, they were champing at the bit.

Justin started to open the back of the Cherokee to get out the cleaning supplies and the boxes that had come to the house full of things they'd bought a while back but Brian told him, "Leave it. Come on." Together they led their friends over to the front gate and Brian produced his set of keys. Unlocked the gate.

"Last night I dreamt of Manderley," joked Ted. A titter of laughter accompanied his comment.

"Oh my God," said Rennie who was still in a bit of a shock despite having grown up in a well-to-do neighborhood. It was just that the house was so beautiful.

Em leaned over and whispered, "You'll get used to it."

Xavier, who was, admittedly, from the projects, was speechless. He'd seen houses like this in DC, walked past them feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up because he knew and the houses knew that he didn't belong in the neighborhood, that he was an interloper. And this was where Justin would live, where he and Brian would live.

Running her hand over the back of one of the benches, Deb said, "I like these. In case you get tired after walking from the car." At Vic's look, she said, "It could happen."

"Is this terracotta?" asked Vic rubbing the floor gently with the toe of his shoe.

"All of the floors are either terracotta or some kind of stone tile," Justin answered.

Unlocking the front door, Brian stepped inside and disengaged the silent alarm. He'd called yesterday and activated the account. Releasing the latch in the left-hand door, he swung both of them wide open. "Well, don't just stand there," he said to their stunned friends, "come on in." Justin laughed and joined him on the inside while they waited for everyone to comply. Gus separated himself from the crowd and tugged on Brian's jeans.

"Daddy."

"What?"

"I got go." Which broke the spell and gave the others permission to come inside.

Taking Gus to the guest bathroom by the kitchen, with Molly close behind them, Brian left Justin to guide the tour. But he had other ideas. "So, make yourselves at home," he told them and he smiled and went to help Jennifer bring in the food and the cleaning supplies.

Released on their own, they all began to wander in groups: the guys in one group; Mel and Lindz in another; Vic, Deb, and Joanie together; and Xavier and Rennie forming the last group.

Carrying the first box inside, Justin saw Mel and Lindz standing in the doorway of the sunroom. "That's my studio," he told them and headed to the kitchen.

The two women went inside the conservatory and Mel shut her eyes against the glare of the sunlight streaming in from the glass walls and windows and doors but Lindz basked in the warmth of the winter sun and imagined herself as part of a light-filled canvas.

Vic, Deb, and Joanie wandered the livingroom and dining room area and Deb wondered, "What are they going to put in here?"

"Nothing at first," Joanie told them. "They're starting out with the master suite, Gus' room and bathroom, and the family room and kitchen."

"Well, they could always rent these rooms out, generate a little extra cash," Vic said lightly.

"Would you look at that fireplace?" Deb ran her hand over it. "Marble." Peeked out the side doors. "What's out there?"

They walked out into the courtyard, standing beneath the wisteria arbor that come spring would bloom and shade the area with a canopy of heavy, fragrant purple flowers.

Having joined Lindsay and Melanie in the conservatory, Xavier and Rennie envied their friend his new studio. "This is fucking amazing," commented Rennie. "And all we've got is that crappy studio at school."

"Better than nothing," said Xavier. "Better than I ever had before."

Melanie agreed. "Absolutely right."

"Still…" he began, looking around at the perfect space, "this is something else."

The guys had headed upstairs, climbing the tower steps and making their way to the master suite.

"My God," exclaimed Emmett upon seeing the vast room with the private office, walk-in closet, and monumental bath. "They're going to be living like kings."

"Like queens, you mean," quipped Ted.

"Brian said they bought this huge king-sized bed," Michael told them.

"I'm surprised he didn't just have one built to fit the space, turn the whole room into a giant bed," Ted said and they all laughed at the image of Brian and Justin rolling around on a room-sized bed.

Moving apart from the other two, Michael walked out onto the loggia, stood looking out at the backyard below. He could see Brian and Justin sitting out here sipping drinks or having a romantic dinner beneath the night sky.

"Honey, you okay?" asked Emmett, coming up behind him.

"Yeah."

"Just think, some day you and Jeff might be moving into a house of your own."

Michael said nothing, only smiled softly and walked back inside.

Jenn and Justin having brought in Gus' toys, he and Molly contented themselves with playing in the fountain area. Brian had cut it on and he could tell that it was going to be one of Gus' favorite places in the house. The toddler was fascinated by the sound of the falling water and within moments had his hand in the basin splashing water on the floor. Bringing a paper towel over, Brian cleaned up the mess and then picked up Gus and asked him if he wanted to see his room.

"I want… water."

"We'll come back and you can play with the water later, okay? Come see your room."

"Come on, Gus," said Justin and he and Molly accompanied them upstairs. Molly loved the tower staircase and stood at the window halfway up and stared out of it until she realized she was being left behind.

Although the room was empty, Gus understood that it was to be his room and he understood the importance of that. He had a room of his own with Mommy and Mama and now he would have a room of his own with Daddy and Daddy Justin.

Holding him, Brian walked him around the room and told him all the things they were going to put in it. "Your bed and a nightstand and a lamp and a clock and a toy chest and a table and some chairs." He opened the closet to reveal the shelves inside. "And you can put your clothes in here when you come and stay with us. You'll like that, won't you? Having your own bed?" Gus nodded and Brian kissed him.

"Where am I going to stay?" Molly asked and Justin laughed.

"There's a guest room on the other side of Gus' bathroom," he said and he showed her the room and told her, "Anytime you want to come over and see me, brat, you can."

"I don't want to see you," she said, "I want to see Brian and Gus."

They all regrouped downstairs, talking over one another about how fabulous the house was so that no one person could hear what anyone else was saying. Justin placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, the sound cutting through the noise. Abruptly, everyone fell silent. "Okay, that's better."

"He acts like he owns the place," said Ted.

"Now," continued Justin, "here's what we need to do. All the floors need sweeping and mopping and the kitchen and bathrooms need to be cleaned from top to bottom. We've got cleaning supplies and plenty of sponges, mops, and buckets." When no one moved, he said, "Maybe my mouth was moving and nothing was coming out of it."

Brian raised a brow. "Too easy."

"Bust a move," he commanded and everyone split up into work details. Mel and Lindsay took the upstairs wing with Gus' bedroom in it, the guys took the master suite, Joanie and Jennifer tackled the kitchen, Deb and Vic the family room and bath, and Brian and Justin and Rennie and Xavier went around mopping the floors in the conservatory, the dining and living room, the gallery, and the sitting room/library upstairs as well as the second-floor hallway. By twelve thirty they were all done and exhausted and ready to eat. With no chairs to sit on, they perched on the floor picnic style and ate off colored plastic plates.

"I can't wait until it's warm and we can lounge around the pool," said Em with visions of a deep tan prancing around in his head.

"I can," said Ted. "Yet another opportunity for Brian to make some cutting comment about my body. Or lack thereof."

"He'll be too busy barbecuing," Justin told him.

Mel asked, "Are you going to have one of those Kiss the Chef aprons?"

"More like Kiss My—"

"Brian!" Joanie scolded. "There are children present."

"Sorry, Baby," he apologized and kissed Justin who pushed him away.

"So," Lindsay said, "tell us about the wedding. Where's it going to be?"

"We're having the ceremony out in the reception hall and the dinner tables are going to be set up in the livingroom."

"All warm and cozy by the fire," Em mused. "At least I won't have to wear my fur."

"I heard raccoon is in this year," Ted teased.

"By the time we're done eating, they'll have removed the chairs and we can dance out in the hall. We're putting the cake and champagne in the studio."

"Sounds like a lot to direct," Lindsay said. "I hope we can manage."

"Mostly we just need you to keep an eye on things," he told her. "The caterers and the DJ know what they're doing, you just have to make sure we stay on track as far as moving from one place to the other and keeping people from getting in the way of the professionals. And, Lindsay," he added, "we want you and Vic to read poetry during the ceremony."

"Us?" asked Vic. "What about Deb?"

"Honey," she replied, "the only thing people want to hear me read is today's specials." But it had become obvious to everyone that they all had something to do but her—and Rennie and Xavier, of course, but they didn't count because they were recent friends, not quite family yet. Debbie, she had been like a second mom to both Brian and Justin. "Listen, all I want to do is to show up and enjoy myself," she assured them. 

 

With lunch over, Brian first went around and took pictures of the empty house and then he and the guys got ready to go looking for tuxedos. Justin remained at the house with Joanie taking measurements for curtains and armoires and tables. Vic and Deb were dropping Xavier and Rennie off at school and Mel and Lindsay gathered Gus' stuff in preparation to head home but the toddler was having none of it. He wanted to go with Brian and nothing any of them said could convince him otherwise.

"No. Go Daddy."

"All right." Brian finally gave in. "You can go with me this afternoon. I'll drop him off later on," he told Lindsay.

"If he lets you."

Xavier and Rennie both hugged Justin before they left. "It's a great place," Xavier said.

"Nana Rose is sure she's coming to the wedding?"

"She's already gone out and bought a new dress to match the scarf you got her in London."

"I can't wait to see her." He looked down, then back up again. "Trey coming?"

"Uh-huh. They're driving up together."

"I bet you can't wait to see him."

"One night's better than none."

Rennie broke into the conversation. "So, Boy Wonder, are you happy now?"

"Yep. But I'll be even happier on the fifteenth." His smile was as bright as the sun. "I'll be the happiest person on earth." 

 

Neither Ted, Michael, or Emmett had known the true meaning of pain before but they knew now: pain was having to go clothes shopping with Brian. Nothing satisfied him and he was very vocal about his disappointment. To the guys all the tuxes looked the same but Brian quibbled over the width of a lapel, the number of buttons, the cut of the coat, the length of the slacks, the material, etc., etc., etc.

Finally, finally, hours later it seemed to the guys although it'd only been about forty-five minutes, he decided on a Lord West tuxedo paired with the navy blue Perry Ellis vest that matched the silver one he and Justin would be wearing. Once he was done with them, he turned to the meager, in his opinion, selection of children's tuxedos in search of something for Gus to wear. Gus, his eyes fixed on his daddy, was given a crash course in selecting tuxedos. Paying the deposits on the guys' tuxes and buying Gus', he also purchased a matching blue vest for Gus since it had to be cut and altered to fit him. His and Justin's tuxedos had arrived, so he paid for them as well and slung them over his arm. His next stop was the tailor's. Luckily, Daphne had found the perfect dress and was getting it altered in Princeton while Jennifer had taken Molly's matching one to a seamstress they trusted so he only had to worry about the grooms and Gus.

The guys felt like they had been released from bondage when they were done. Waving goodbye to father and son, they decided to hit Woody's for a pick-me-up.

Drinks in hand, they found a corner table and collapsed.

"What a day. I just want to go home and go to sleep," moaned Ted.

Emmett frowned. "I feel just a wee bit, I don't know, inadequate after seeing that place. I mean, the loft was bad enough but that house is absolutely fabulous."

"I know what you mean. I'm definitely going to be finding faults with my place for weeks to come."

"And I don't even have my own place. I'm rooming with Mikey." He rubbed Michael's shoulder. "For which I am eternally grateful."

"Did you ever think Brian and Justin would be getting married?" asked Ted.

"Not in this universe, Honey. But, I keep remembering how Brian went after Justin that time he ran away to New York, and I kinda knew then that Justin was around to stay. Because if he didn't mean anything to him, Brian would have never gone after him."

"I know what you mean. And going to the prom. You knew it was serious then. Brian in a room full of eighteen-year-olds and they were all fully dressed." He and Em laughed but Michael didn't. Ted took a big swig of his drink. "So, how are you doing?" he asked Michael.

"I'm doing great. Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Maybe cause Brian and Justin are getting married in three weeks."

"I'm happy for him."

"Be happier if it were you," he said, broaching the subject they'd all been tiptoeing around for so long.

"I don't think Jeff's going to ask me to marry him," joked Michael although he knew exactly what Ted meant.

"Honey…" Emmett paused. "It's okay if…"

"If what?" asked Michael. "My best friend's moving into a new house and getting married and I'm happy for him." He finished his drink. "I'm ready for another. You guys?" They shook their heads, still working on the first one. "Be back."

They watched him go. "So?"

"So what?"

"So," Emmett asked, "what do you think about that?"

"I think you'd better have a bottle of rum on hand after we get back from the wedding." And not just for Michael, they'd all need it. Sometimes being happy for someone else didn't keep you from feeling sorry for yourself. 

 

Brian felt especially sorry for himself as Gus was pitching a major hissy fit having realized that Brian was taking him home and not to the loft. From his seat in the back, he wailed and cried and threw Beh away from him, refusing to be comforted by his best bud. Every now and again Brian would hear him say an intelligible word: No, stay, Daddy and it was about to drive him crazy. Nearing a traffic light, he pulled over next to the curb and parked. Turned around and faced the crying tot. "Gus. Gus, listen to me. Gus—"

"Stay!"

"You just stayed with us this week. Gus…" They had so much to do and so little time and it took longer if you had a two-year-old with you and there was that damn dinner tomorrow and no way was he taking his kid over there to mingle with Claire's horde of devils masquerading as children. But his head was about to explode from the crying and he'd do anything to get him to stop. "Okay, okay, you can stay. You can stay tonight but we're taking you back home in the morning, deal?" The toddler sniffled and wiped his eyes. "Okay?" Gus nodded. Brian found Beh and handed him back to the little boy and watched as he clutched the bear. He turned back around and slumped in his own seat. Got out his cell and called the Munchers. "Yeah. Gus is staying with us tonight. Look, he was about to cry himself to death. No, I know that—You wanna be the one to tell him, be my guest. Come and get him."

"No!" came from the back seat.

"Your son has spoken." Listened to Mel bitch for a minute, then interrupted with, "I'll bring him back tomorrow morning. Early. Elevenish." Snapped the phone close and suddenly smiled. "I love doing that."

From the back came the sound of giggling.

He didn't have to worry about Claire's brood setting a bad example, he was doing a great job all by himself. He flipped open the phone and called Justin. "Hey. You still at the house?"

"Just about done. What about you?"

"I dropped our tuxes at the tailor's and he's got Gus' vest too. And I've got Gus," he added.

"For the night?"

"Uh-huh. My ears have only just stopped ringing."

"We need to stop by the mattress store." They hadn't done it last night, wanting to get home and celebrate on their old mattress.

"We can do that with him."

"And we need to stop by the mall. We don't have towels and stuff for Gus' bathroom or for the guest bath downstairs."

Brian's headache was returning. It would be harder to do that with Gus in tow but they had no choice. "Well, we'll make do. You wanna meet at the mattress store or what?"

"How about we park the Jeep and take my car? It's got more room."

"Be there in fifteen." He cut the connection and started up the Jeep. "All right, Gus, we're going to see Daddy Justin."

The toddler clapped and said, "Daddy!"

"Yea," murmured Brian, hoping his head would stop pounding.

By the time they met up with Justin at home, he was in a somewhat better mood. Of course, his mood was improved by the long and lingering kiss Justin bestowed upon him. Parting, Justin asked, "The couch?"

"Maybe we'll actually make it this time."

"We better get a move on. Gus looks hungry." He was sitting in the back chewing on Beh's paw.

Dennis was on duty again when they returned to the mattress store. "Don't they give you any time off?" Brian asked jokingly.

"You're back for the mattresses?"

"And we don't even have to test them this time."

Noticing Gus, Dennis asked, "This your son?"

"Yep. Say hello, Gus."

"Hey."

"Hello. You're a cutie." Just like your daddy. Gesturing towards an office area, Dennis said, "Let's get the paperwork done."

"More paperwork," sighed Brian. "You wanna take Mini-Me on a tour of the store?" he asked Justin.

"Keep him occupied," the young man said and he and Gus wandered around looking at mattresses and beds while Brian filled out the paperwork for the bed and arranged for delivery next Saturday afternoon. Fifteen minutes later, he shook hands with Dennis and found Justin and Gus lying on a mattress set like the one they'd purchased.

"Come on, let's get this over with."

Of course, the mall was jammed packed full of people. Which irritated and amazed Brian. "Who says the economy is bad?" They made their way to Pottery Barn and bought a corner storage shelf and a bench for Gus' bathroom and the hamper for theirs. The hamper they got in-store and the rest of the stuff they had to have delivered. Hopefully it would arrive by next Friday or the following Monday at the latest. They also bought car bedding for Gus' bed and a car lithograph to hang on his wall. They'd ordered this awesome bed in the shape of a car for his room and some other things online that he was certain to love. Of course, they'd also ordered bedding for themselves from Spiegel's. Online. All due to arrive sometime soon.

"Don't stores have things for sale in them that you can actually take home anymore?" Brian asked, puzzled by the fact that he'd spent a great deal of money and all they had in hand were some towels.

"It's easier this way," Justin explained. "You're not loaded down with stuff."

"No, you just have to hang around the house waiting for shit to show up."

"Sit," said Gus and the two men tried to ignore him but it was too funny that he was trying to curse and yet couldn't pronounce the "sh" sound yet. Suppressing giggles they took hold of his hands and went in search of food. 

 

"Do you think we should try to fix up the guest room now or wait? We've already got one request from Molly to come over and stay."

"Let's see how much we've spent already and then make a decision." He finished strapping Gus in and got in on the passenger side. "I forgot to tell you. I bought a new tub for Gus' bathroom. It's coming with our stuff. I figured since the contractors were putting in one tub, they might as well do two."

"What kind of tub?" And unspoken, Why didn't you discuss it with me? Justin focused on driving through the parking garage.

"Michael Graves. I saw it online and it's amazing. It's perfectly round. Gus will love it." He paused and studied Justin's profile. Despite the younger man's efforts, Brian could see the tension in his jaw. "I'm sorry I didn't bring it up before. I didn't even think, I just bought it."

"It's okay." He'd tried to hide how annoyed he was and failed.

"No, it's not. It's our house and we should make decisions about it together."

"So I guess I should tell you that I've decided to paint the kitchen walls purple." But he couldn’t even get it out before he started laughing. Brian joined in as did Gus even though he had no idea why they were laughing. He just liked to laugh. 

 

He also liked spaghetti and he loved getting spaghetti all over him, which is what Brian surmised as he watched his son smear sauce all over his face and hands. Figuring it was easier to wipe him down afterwards than to try and keep him from doing it in the first place, he only gave the little boy the eye when he went to pull the napkin from his collar. It was the only thing protecting his clothes and Brian had no intention of letting him get anywhere near the white furniture in the loft with spaghetti-stained clothes. Especially since, technically, the loft wasn't theirs anymore, nor was the furniture. "Leave it," he ordered and Gus left it alone and continued to eat.

"I love it when you take charge," Justin told him sotto voce.

"Maybe I'll show you my technique when we get home."

"We might wake Gus."

"Hmm… you're probably right. We can save it for the new house. You can make as much noise as you want."

"No more notes from the super." He wouldn't miss those at all as he still couldn't look the man in the face without blushing.

"Did we call the paper and give them the new address?"

"It was on the list. And you gave the list to Cynthia, right?"

"Right."

"Then it's done." The one thing Cynthia was, besides being very pretty, was efficient. Give her something to do and she was like the Terminator, didn't stop until the job was done. "We should get her something special for helping out so much," Justin suggested.

"It's called a big, fat paycheck," Brian replied.

"I think we should do something for Deb too," Justin added. "I felt kind of bad today. Everyone else has something to do in the wedding and she doesn't."

"We won't leave her out, trust me."

"She really has been like a mom to both of us." He chuckled. "I remember when she called me out about throwing away my artwork and thinking about going to Dartmouth. God, she could yell…"

"You haven't heard her yell." Rolled his eyes. "I've heard her yell. Every time Mikey got into trouble, she'd find me and yell at me. Like it was my fault."

Justin raised his eyebrow. "Well?"

"It wasn't always my fault. Just most of the time." Gus dropped a piece of bread on the table out of reach so Brian retrieved it and fed it to him.

After a while Justin asked, "Is everything okay with you and Michael?" It'd been on his mind most of the afternoon.

"Yeah. Why?"

"He was kind of quiet today."

"Trying to conserve oxygen. All we needed was Daphne and we would have exceeded our per person oxygen quota with all the yakking going on there today."

"They were all blown away by the house." He mused, "Wait until the wedding."

Having demolished his spaghetti, Gus announced, "I want cookie."

Brian grinned. "Someone wants dessert."

"How about some gelato, Gus?" The baby looked properly confused. "Ice cream," Justin explained.

"Yeah! Icweam."

"God," Justin reminisced, "they had the best gelato in Florence."

"Be a while before we taste any like that again."

"We can buy an ice cream machine and experiment at home." Smiled. "Ice cream kisses…"

Brian remembered the night he was referring to. He'd stopped by the diner and invited Justin to the loft, the first time, in fact, that he'd ever invited Justin over. At the time he'd told himself that it'd been because he and Mikey weren't talking but, looking back, he realized that part of the invitation had come just because he'd wanted to see Justin, to be with him. It almost made him laugh, how hard it'd been for him to admit that to himself back then. Smiling, he said, "Maybe we should stop by the grocery store and buy some ice cream, take it home…"

"What about the noise?" Justin reminded him.

"I can always gag you."

"Oh, Daddy…" he whispered and reached for Gus to clean him up. "Come on, Gus. We're having ice cream at home." 

 

The chaise lounge was a little sticky this morning but it had been the site of their first ice cream encounter so it had sentimental value plus it was the one piece of furniture that they were taking with them to the new place so they didn't have to worry about staining it. Amazed that they hadn't awakened Gus the night before despite making every effort to be quiet, the two lovers looked forward to the days when they could soak in a tub after making love and relax tired muscles.

Sitting at the table watching Gus eat his breakfast, Brian envied him his night's rest. This had been the second night in a row that they'd gotten very little sleep after a busy day and it was starting to catch up with him big time. Another of life's little reminders that he was, in fact, getting older and slower. "You know," he said to Justin, "maybe we ought to invest in a sauna. They have these units that you can add to any room, put them together in a couple of hours. The contractors could do it along with the other renovations." Which, of course, was something all the guides said you shouldn't do: add jobs onto a renovation mid-course as it jacked up the price. But…

"How much?"

"Around four thousand for a two-person model. Be big enough for Gus to get in there with us," he said, tapping the toddler on the nose with his finger as Gus was highly interested in their conversation and not as interested in his breakfast anymore.

Justin shrugged. "If we're going to have a home gym, we should probably have a sauna too. And four thousand's not a lot. Not really." Not compared to eight hundred thousand for the house and about thirty thousand for the work being done to the bathrooms and the sitting room area. "I say we do it."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Brian asked, pretending to be suspicious.

"Because you're having dinner with your sister and nephews today."

Grimacing, Brian added, "So are you."

"You know, maybe I should meet them under a less stressful situation. I mean, your sister's already upset, why make it worse?"

"Because we're running out of time," Brian pointed out. "We don't have very many weeks left. And once we move, I don't want to think about Claire. We won't have time to think about anything except the wedding. So we do this now and get it over with."

"Think maybe we could slip them a Mickey or something?"

"So devious. Believe me," he said, "the last thing you want to see is Claire's tits. Okay, make that the next to the last. The very last thing you want to see is my mom's."

Frowning, Justin put down his fork. "Thank you for ruining my appetite."

Brian looked at Gus who was smiling. "What are you grinning about?"

"Tits."

Justin nearly spit out his coffee. "You are so gonna get it. Lindsay is gonna kill you if she hears him say that."

"Well, he's probably seen enough in their house."

"Tits."

"You can stop now," said Brian and Gus laughed and picked up his juice. 

 

He wasn't laughing later on when Brian and Justin took him home but he didn't fall out this time either. Waving goodbye, he watched from the front door as they drove away. Little did he know they hated leaving more than he hated them leaving. Their next stop: Joanie's.

They sat outside her house for as long as they possibly could without arousing suspicion. Claire was already there, probably been there for an hour, wearing Joanie down. Kissing for one last time before their ordeal began, the two men dismounted and walked leisurely to the house, affecting a casualness they in no way felt. Justin knocked.

As she usually did, even when she knew someone was coming over, Joanie peeped through the front curtain before opening the door. "Justin, come in." Hugging him briefly, she embraced her son and whispered, "Thank you."

Brian said nothing, only followed Justin inside and pulled off his coat before Joanie began making introductions.

"Justin, this is my daughter, Claire, and her two sons, Peter and John. Everyone, this is Justin… Brian's partner."

Claire's youngest son, John, asked, "What does that mean? His partner?"

His mom snapped, "Be quiet."

"I know all about partners," Peter said. "It means they do it."

"Do what?"

"Peter," Claire warned, then said to her mother, "I don't want to subject my children to this."

"Then you should have left them home," Brian told her. "I knew this was a bad idea," he said, reaching for his coat.

"Brian—" began Joanie and Justin took hold of his arm.

"It's okay."

"Baby—"

"I want to stay." He felt Brian's muscles uncoil. "Your mom invited us to dinner and I want to stay."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. She's my mother too," said Claire and she sat down as if she never planned to leave. "Sit down," she told the boys and they obeyed, for once.

Brian and Justin perched on the loveseat and waited.

"So," asked Joanie, "is everyone hungry?"

"Starving," replied Justin. "We didn't eat much breakfast this morning. Gus ate enough for the both of us though."

"Is Gus Uncle Brian's son?" asked John.

"I've told you about him," said Claire tightly.

Brian glared at her. "You know, Claire, if you loosened up you might be able to pull that stick out of your—"

"I think I'll go and check the roast," Joanie announced.

Justin leaned closer to Brian, risking an evil look from Claire, and whispered, "Behave."

Brian slipped his hand in Justin's and held it. Claire didn’t miss the gesture.

"Do you have to do that?"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Rub our faces in it."

"What do you want, Claire? For everyone to be as miserable as you?"

"Your turn will come," she promised him. "He's what? A good twelve years younger than you? Mom told me he's already left you once."

Face burning, Justin couldn't deny her words but he wanted to because he could tell Brian was getting upset again.

Brian said nothing, refusing to spar with her.

Returning, Joanie informed them that dinner was ready. Pointing out their seats around the table, Joanie placed Justin and Brian on one side, the boys on the opposite side, and herself and Claire at each end. Brian made sure to put himself between Claire and Justin even if that meant he had to spend all of dinner next to his sister.

 _How long could dinner possibly last?_ Justin asked himself. He didn't savor the thought of spending much time with Claire or her kids. Maybe Brian had been right to want to stay away from her. She hated him and she didn't even know him. She didn't want to get to know him, wasn't willing to give him a chance, he could see that in her eyes. So why were they even trying?

"Pass the rolls, please," Brian said to Claire when it became obvious that she wasn't going to. She handed the basket to him with undisguised annoyance. Angrily, he asked, "Do you have to be such a cunt all the time?"

Joanie inhaled and the boys burst out laughing. Claire turned about three shades of red before slowly rising and leaving the table.

"Fuck," he said beneath his breath and got up and went after her.

Justin looked as if he'd been left alone in the Roman Colosseum during the height of battle and the boys looked as if they wanted to devour him.

Brian followed Claire upstairs to her old room. She'd shut the door. He knocked first.

"Go away."

He went in anyway. She was sitting on the bed dabbing at her eyes. Standing to her side, he took a deep breath, then said, "I'm sorry."

"That's a first. Brian Kinney's sorry about something."

He snorted. "You weren't exactly on your best behavior either."

"You had no right to bring him here."

"I had every fucking right. He's my partner and Joanie's my mother."

"Not to Daddy's house."

"It isn't Jack's house anymore. It's Mom's."

"And now you two can do whatever you want."

"It's about fuckin' time!" he bellowed. "She's over fifty, for Christ's sake and she's never had a life of her own."

"Well, you've always done exactly what you've wanted."

He closed his eyes and he could see himself, twelve years old and lying in bed, wanting to be anywhere but in this house, and knowing that there was no place else for him, no escape. "Not always," he said softly.

"As soon as you could, you started staying away from home. And then you went to college and you never came back."

"Claire—How the fuck could I? He hated me." And Brian had always known it.

"He didn't hate you."

"He never wanted me and he never lost an opportunity to tell me that. Never missed a chance to tell me that I was no good, that I'd never amount to anything, that I was a mistake. And if I said anything to defend myself, he was right there, trying to knock the shit out of me."

"You shouldn’t have said anything."

"How long was I supposed to take it?"

"Well, he didn't kill you. It didn't hurt you any. You're successful, fancy job, big house."

"And you think that makes up for everything that he did to me?"

"What more did you want?"

"I wanted— I…" He laughed a little. "I wanted it not to have been so hard." He thought of the stuff he and Justin had left at Jack's grave, wondered if anyone had ever stumbled across it and puzzled over its meaning. Knowing he was possibly making a huge mistake, he said, "Do you remember what I said during the trial? That I'd been raped?" Even now it was hard for him to say the word despite his work with Drew.

"Yeah." She remembered. She'd read it and wanted to crawl under a rock because of it and all the other things that he'd said, that were now part of the public record.

"I didn't remember, Claire. All those years and I didn't remember. And even if I had, who would I have told? Joanie? Jack?" The pain made him wince. "I should have been able to tell them. That's what parents are for. But not ours. So I blocked it out of my mind. And I went on."

"Who did it?" He hadn't said during the trial.

He'd come this far, might as well go the entire way. "The Coach."

"From school?" She remembered the coach. All the girls had had a crush on him. Handsome guy, big, strong. And a rapist. "Is that why?"

"No." He knew what she meant, what they always meant. If it hadn't been for the Coach would he have been straight? "It's what I was always meant to be. Can't change that."

"The Coach, what he did to you, that wasn't Daddy's fault."

"No. But he did plenty on his own. You know what it's like, being scared of your own father? Wanting to be anywhere but here, where he could get to me, where I could hear them arguing, him hitting her? But you were gone, you escaped."

"By marrying Bobby. You think that was a picnic?" God, she and Bobby hadn't had a clue what they were getting into, hadn't had any idea what it meant to be married, to work together towards something, towards building a life together.

"I know it wasn't." He looked up and shook his head. "But now Pop is gone and, no matter what you think, at least we've got a chance to maybe change things."

"It's easy for you. You've got everything. You waltz in here with your perfect life and it's easy for her to love you."

"Hello? You sent me emails telling me you hated me, she wouldn’t even talk to me. I've had to work hard to get where I am. With work, with Justin, and with Joanie." He could have written a book about his life, about all the travails he'd faced. We could be on that show, he thought. The one Justin had told him about in England. Queer something. That’s how crazy and fucked-up his life had been.

"Is it true what she said? That he left you?"

"It hasn't always been easy for us to be together. We've both fucked up plenty. But we're still together. For always."

"How can you be that sure?"

"Because there's nothing without him."

"That why you're getting married?"

"Usually the reason." Even though he knew there were many more reasons that had nothing to do with loving or needing someone.

"Why do you think they got married? I didn't come along for a couple of years, so it wasn't cause she was pregnant."

"Guess you'll have to ask her." And she would probably tell her now, she was a different person now, more open. Same as him.

"You talked her out of letting us move in here, didn't you?"

"You having money problems?"

"I just thought she was lonely."

"She's just getting started with her business, with her life,,, give her a chance, Claire."

With her hands folded in her lap, she sat and thought for a moment. He didn't interrupt but he steeled himself for whatever she might say. Finally, she spoke. "I don't hate you, you know. I never did."

"Bet you didn't like me too much though."

She laughed. "No. God, you were such a little asshole. Why couldn't you stay out of his way?"

"Just wasn't my way, I guess." He added, "I would have tried, Claire. If he had ever…" So desperate for his father's love, he'd done what he could, given him what he could, and even then he'd said to him, "It's you who should be dying." Brian didn't think he'd ever forget that. But it didn't hurt as much anymore, he didn't allow it to.

"So… am I going to get to see him?"

"Who?"

"Your son?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

To himself he said, He's two-years-old and, so far, the world's been pretty good to him. I want it to stay that way. But he asked, "You coming to the wedding?"

"Maybe." She never missed a family wedding, even if she hated the bride and groom. Some kind of a curse.

"Then you'll meet him there."

She decided to test their newfound peace. "Can I bring the kids?"

He sighed. "If you can keep Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber on their leashes."

"Hey!" 

 

Meanwhile, Justin had been fending off questions from said Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber.

"What's your name again?"

"Justin."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"That's old."

"No, it's not, that's not even as old as Mom."

"Uh-huh."

"Stupid. Do you and Uncle Brian really do it?"

Joanie said very firmly, in her best grandmother voice, "Boys…"

"Are you gonna have a baby?"

"Boys…"

"He can't have a baby, only girls have babies."

"Then how do they do it?"

"Boys!" Joanie's cheeks were spotted. "Eat your dinner and not another word or you're both leaving the table and not having dessert. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am."

Touching Justin's hand, she apologized. "Justin… I'm sorry."

"Molly's just as bad," he said, although he was used to her. These two… they'd take some getting used to. But he'd do it because they were Brian's family which made them his family too. In any case, the boys apparently believed their grandmother's threat because they left him alone and concentrated on their dinner until their mom showed up again at which time each began to tell on the other. Brian took his seat, kissing Justin on the cheek as he did, which set the boys off again. Sighing, Justin wondered how long it'd be before Joanie banished them to the other room. 

 

As they walked to the car, Brian slipped his arm about Justin's waist. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Leaving you to fend for yourself."

"They're not as bad as they seem."

"They're worse."

"They're a little rough around the edges." He opened the passenger door. "They kinda remind me of you."

Brian nudged him in the back with his fist. "I'll show you rough."

Getting in, he said, "Promises, promises." Brian shut the door and went around to the other side, grinning. "So," he asked when Brian had gotten in and started the car, "everything went okay?"

He shrugged. "It's a start." Waited at the stop sign until it was his turn to go and pulled out. "She still has this picture in her head of Jack that… it's not the way it was."

"Let her," Justin suggested. "Who's it hurting?"

"Nobody probably." Stoplight. "I don't expect her to have us over for dinner any time soon."

"As long as she doesn't try to burn us at the stake."

"Those kids of hers might. They're like savages."

"Maybe what they need is a man in their life. Someone with a strong hand," he said suggestively. "Firm grip." Licked his lips.

"I don't know, I think I need to work on my grip," he replied and Justin laughed deep in his throat as Brian applied the gas and speeded up. 

 

Brian lay on his back with Justin in his arms. His eyes were closed and he felt rested the way he hadn't for days. With the ordeal of dinner behind him, he could relax.

"Next Sunday we'll be in our new house."

"Yep."

"We should do something special."

"Like what?"

"Dinner for two… candlelight—"

"If we have a table."

"Could always have dinner in bed."

"Romantic."

"Light the fireplace…snuggle under the covers..."

"It's a date."

"Thought you didn't do dates."

"I'll make an exception." Justin turned in his arms and kissed his throat. Made his way to his lips and kissed him softly, then settled back down, his face in his neck. "Happy?"

He murmured, "Yeah."

"Good."

"Brian?"

"Hmm?"

Justin looked up and cupped Brian's face, ran his thumb over his cheek. "I love you."

"But will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four," he chanted.

"Seventy-four too."

"Now, that's just sick."

"You…" He drew Brian's head down and they kissed. "I cannot wait for the wedding."

"Have to unless you've got a time machine."

"Did you ever think we'd be getting married?"

"It crossed my mind."

"When we first met?" Justin asked, incredulously.

"When we first met, I didn't think I'd even see you again after we fucked."

"Why did you?"

"Cause you wouldn't leave me alone."

"Shut up."

"You were like a barnacle."

"Shut. Up."

"A barnacle of luv."

Justin chuckled. "You liked it though."

"Yeah?"

"Or you would have told me to get lost."

"I did."

"And really meant it."

"I did."

"If you had, I would have gone and never come back. But I knew you didn't mean it."

"How?" He shifted positions and propped up on his elbow so that they faced one another. "How did you know?"

"By the way you touched me."

"How did I touch you?"

"Like a lover."

"You'd never even had a lover. How did you know?"

"I just did. You touched my heart. Not everybody does that. But you did."

"You're really something else, you know that?"

"What am I?"

Brian leaned in close. Whispered, "Mine."

And Justin tilted his face upwards for a kiss. "Always." 

 

Looking around the loft, Brian said, "We should start packing up the stuff we don’t use. The painting, pictures, personal effects."

"Is there a list of all the things we're leaving in the loft?"

"Yeah. Had to have it for the closing."

"I can start working on that today. I'm taking the week off from work."

Brian stabbed at his eggs. "Wish I could. But Liberty Air's been griping about feeling neglected ever since we took over Hyperion so my job's to make them feel loved again. And, of course, they picked this week to come down and take a meeting. Which means they'll have some bright idea about a new campaign and I'll have to come up with something to make them happy."

At the mention of Hyperion, Justin thought about Kenneth. "Did Kenneth say if he was coming to the wedding?"

"Said he would try. Who knows with his schedule. He could be in Hong Kong that weekend. But I bet we get some kick-ass gift."

"Speaking of gifts, you still haven't told me what you want for a wedding present."

"That's because I don't want anything."

"We have to exchange gifts."

"Why?"

"It's tradition."

"It's also tradition to spend the night before the wedding apart. I don't see us doing that either."

"Oh, yes, we are."

"Oh, no, we aren't."

"Uh-huh."

"Uh-uh."

"We'll see."

"Our stag party's that night. And it's at our place."

"So. I'm leaving the party and going to my mom's house. Daphne's spending the night with me."

"You're joking?"

"Nope. We planned it before she went back to school."

"No pre-wedding nookie?"

"Uh-uh." He raised his coffee cup. "It's tradition."

"It's cruel and unusual punishment."

"It's one night."

"Please."

"No. Now, eat your food."

"When did you turn into such a bride?"

Justin kicked him beneath the table. "You wanna have lunch today at the house? I'm going over there to relieve Joanie when I get out of class. I can pick something up."

"Can't. Lunch meeting with the partners."

"What time are you getting home?"

"Late probably."

"Are the contractors coming today?"

"Tomorrow. Joanie's gonna be there. Wanna come?"

"Class." He checked his watch. "Speaking of which, I gotta go."

"Dinner?" Brian still had a while.

"Call me. Let me know when you're coming home." They kissed and he grabbed his stuff.

"Later."

"Later." 

 

"Getting close to the big day, Boss," said Cynthia as she handed him today's schedule.

"Which big day?"

"Wedding day."

"So, what'd you get me?"

"I contributed to the company fund."

"How—" The phone rang and he snatched it up before she could answer it. "Yeah?"

"Brian, Keisha."

Mace. "You get it?"

"You should have posted a warning on the outside: May cause fainting from disbelief."

He laughed. "Trust me, I was as shocked as you."

"So this is bonafide?"

"Justin wouldn't let me play that big of a practical joke. You coming?"

"I'm coming."

"Bringing what's his name?"

"Cecil."

"Yeah. Finally get to meet him."

"He's been wanting to meet you too, His Big and Badness."

"My reputation precedes me."

"Tell Justin I said hello and I'll see him on the fifteenth. Oh, you are registered someplace aren't you?"

"Macy's, Williams-Sonoma, Pottery Barn, Pier One, and Crate and Barrel."

"I figured you'd be a little more uptown than that."

"You did meet our friends?" Like which of them could afford better than Macy's? Which of them could afford Macy's period?

" 'nough said. See you then."

"Later." Smiled as he hung up.

"Friend?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." She'd definitely been more than just the prosecutor assigned to their case. They'd both come away from that experience thankful she'd been on their side. Mace, that's what they called her. Not to her face, although Brian suspected she'd actually like it. It'd be good to see her again. Good to see a lot of people again.

You mean Kenneth.

He looked up at Cynthia, guiltily, as if she could have overheard his thoughts. Taking the day planner from her he said, "Thanks," and hoped she'd go. Taking her cue, she left, closing the door behind her.

It would be good to see Kenneth. And stressful. Between Justin's understandable suspicion, his own uneasy feelings, and Kenneth's feelings for him.

_Maybe I shouldn't have invited him._

Too late now, couldn't uninvite him. Best he could hope for was for Kenneth not to show up. But he really thought they could be friends and he wanted him there, wanted Harris to see him and Justin be married so that any ideas Kenneth might have about them being together would be put to rest and they could get on with the business of being friends.

None of which was helping him prepare for his day and for the very important lunch meeting he had at noon. So, putting Kenneth and the wedding out of his mind, he turned to work.

But his eye ran across the portrait Justin had drawn of him and Gus, sleeping. He'd put it on the wall over the sofa and no one who came into his office failed to comment on it. He couldn’t wait to get a picture of them at the wedding to put on his desk. Abruptly, he laughed. Shook his head.

_When did I become a family man?_

Busy delivering two bowls of soup, Deb barked over her shoulder, "Thought you were taking the week off?"

"I am," he told her. "I came in to get some lunch to take to the house. And to see you."

She kissed him on the way back to the kitchen to pick up the rest of her order. "How you doing? How was dinner?"

"It was okay. They're not as bad as Brian says. Okay, they're bad enough," he admitted, "but I've seen worse. On TV."

Deb laughed. "And, believe me, you were spared the worst of the bunch: Jack Kinney. What a piece of work." With her orders dispensed with, she took a breather and sat on a bar stool next to him. Squeezed his shoulder. "I just can't believe you're getting married in three weeks. And that house. Sunshine, it's wonderful."

He smiled broadly. "I love it. And Brian loves it too. It's just like being in Tuscany again."

"Having breakfast on the loggia, looking out over the pool and the backyard. I can just see the flowers."

"And I'm planning on growing a kitchen herb garden. There's that huge space between the side door and the pergola, right beneath the kitchen window. It's perfect. I can get some stones and mark off the beds, maybe pave a path between them with bricks or something. Have to take my allergy medicine though."

"And Gus can help you harvest them. He's such a good helper." She'd seen first-hand evidence of his abilities on Saturday when he'd gone around handing out sodas at Jennifer's direction.

"And he's so smart too. He knows his colors and the names of all kinds of foods and he knows what his name looks like—"

She laughed. "You sound just like a proud papa."

"I am," he said bashfully. "He's gonna love his room. Joanie really did a great job."

"I bet she had some help."

"Well, we helped some. Brian picked out the bed. Gus is gonna freak."

"And that's a good thing?" Then cackled. "I'm happy for you, Sunshine."

He broached the subject of her non-involvement in the wedding. "Are you sure you don’t mind not having anything to do in the wedding?"

"Are you kidding? I'm going to sit back and relax and enjoy myself." Standing, she kissed him on the cheek and rubbed her lipstick away so he wouldn't have to. "So, what are you having for lunch?"

"Tuna sandwiches. One for me and one for my mother-in-law-to-be."

"Coming right up."

As she went to put in his order, he thought about how strange it was going to be, working in the diner and then driving home to that neighborhood and that house. He wondered what kind of neighbors they had, if they had kids or not, if they were young or old. Maybe they ought to have an open house, a meet and greet the neighbors kind of thing. Brian's head would probably explode if he suggested it but they were going to be living there for a long time, might as well make the effort to fit in. As much as they could.

That thought was still on his mind as he drove into the driveway of 1517 and saw a woman in her mid-thirties walking a dog down the street. She was the first person he'd seen walking since they'd been coming to the house. He paused and debated making contact with her, then decided that it was worth a try. Putting the Cherokee in park, he waited until she was close by, then rolled down the window. "Excuse me?"

Her dog began to bark and she shushed it. Justin noticed she was wearing a wedding ring. "Sorry about that. Did your folks just move in?"

"Huh?" She thought… "No."

"Too bad. I was hoping someone had moved in there."

"I mean, we are moving in. On Saturday. My partner and I."

At that there was a subtle change in her manner. She seemed to look at him more closely. " You're mighty young. What do you do? Pop star?"

He smiled. "No. I'm an art student."

"A student. So what does he do?"

"Ad exec. Do you live around here?"

She pointed back down the street. "About six houses down. On the left."

"The English Tudor?"

"Yep, that's us. Me and Christopher. Oh, I'm Rachel, by the way."

"Justin. Brian's my partner."

"And this is Rusty."

Justin waved at the dog, a Chocolate Lab. "Hi, Rusty."

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thanks." He waved as she continued down the street. She seemed nice enough. Although by this evening he figured most of the neighbors on the street would know about the gay couple that had moved into the villa at 1517 and the fact that one of them was a student. He could only imagine what she imagined Brian to look like, how old, that is. Probably thought he was some old guy keeping some hot, young thing. Well, wait until she saw Brian. He smiled. Wait until they all saw him.

Joanie came out of the kitchen to meet him as he got out of the car. Waved. He waved back and went inside. There were swatches on the counter. "What do you think about this?" she asked.

It was a fabric swatch. Lightweight, cinnamon-colored. "What for?"

"Kitchen curtains." There was a set of wide tilt windows with separated arched tops in the kitchen as well as two smaller windows.

The fabric was in the same color family as the floor and the terracotta-colored tiles in the backsplash but lighter so the curtains would allow the sunlight to filter through. "I like it. What kind of curtains do you think would look good in here?"

"Something simple. In a room like this, you want them focused on the kitchen and the shape of the window, not the curtains."

Justin gave her an encouraging smile. "You're really good at this."

"Thank you. But, really, it's not much. I just know what I like."

"Brian would say that's all that matters. As long as you have good taste."

She laughed. "That sounds like him. Thank you again, for coming over on Sunday," she added, touching him briefly on the arm.

"We're family now; we should start acting like it."

"I think it did them both some good, getting it out in the open." Turning to the cabinet, running her hand over it, distracting herself in the veins of the granite, she said, "So much of it was my fault. I should have… I should have been a better mother. I should have protected them."

Not wanting to excuse her but feeling that she had paid, if not as much as Brian, she had paid enough. "They're adults now, you don't have to protect them anymore."

At that she turned and smiled. "Brian has you to protect him. He doesn't need me."

"Yes, he does," he replied. "To help decorate. So what else?"

After showing him her other ideas, in between eating her sandwich, he gave the go-ahead and she left to buy the material and to start on the curtains and the placemats and napkins for the table in the family room. While he hung around and waited just in case any deliveries came today. Taking his sketch pad out into the solarium, he resolved to pick up a cheap stool and easel so that he could begin setting up his studio. He didn't need much, not at first. Eventually, he could envision there being plants all over the place, soaking in the sun through the walls and roof. Maybe they could put the little mosaic table and matching chairs in here instead of the pergola. Get something else for out there. They'd need something for the outside by the summer, when they planned on having a huge party for Gus' birthday. His third birthday.

He sat on the floor, with his sketch pad in his lap, and doodled for a while before turning his mind to the second of the drawings he was to do for Kenneth Harris. Got distracted again. God, what had possessed him to take that commission? Money was one thing, peace of mind another. Not that he didn't trust Brian, he did; but he didn't trust Kenneth for a millisecond. The man would do anything to get Brian. Why couldn't Brian see that?

_Maybe he does._

Justin looked out of the window to dispel the voice in his head.

_Maybe that's what he wants._

Shaking his head, he said softly, "No. He doesn't." He didn't. Brian loved him. Look at this house, look at the wedding they were planning—

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of the doorbell. That was certainly loud enough. He wondered what it sounded like upstairs. The doorbell was part of an intercom system linking the family room, the living room, their bedroom, Gus' room, and the guest room. You could use the intercom to talk to people outside the door or to people in other rooms of the house. He went to the door and pressed the intercom button. "Yes?"

"Delivery."

This early? Justin opened the door to find a deliveryman standing in the entryway.

"Delivery for a Mr. Brian Kinney. You him?"

"No. He's at work. What is it?" Probably the dining table and chairs.

"Two bathtubs, a vanity, toilet, and a bidet." The guy raised his eyebrow on the last item.

"I can sign for it."

"I'd really rather have him sign for it. There's about fifteen thousand dollars worth of stuff out there."

"I'm his partner." When that didn't seem to faze the man, Justin offered to call Brian. "I can call him and you can talk to him."

The guy held out his hands. He could tell Justin was getting pissed. "Look, I'm sorry. I just want to be careful. Anything happens to this stuff, I get blamed."

"I understand. I'll call him if you want."

"Nah, just make sure everything is there and okay before you sign. I guess it'll be okay. You wouldn't be in here if it weren't."

"Can you bring everything to the side door? The stair back there is a straight shot up. This one's curved."

"No problem. Meet you around there."

"You've got help, right?"

"Yeah. Waiting in the truck."

Locking the front door again, Justin went to meet them at the side door. Opened it and pushed it all the way back against the wall. Hoped the doorway was wide enough for the crates. Otherwise, they'd have to come in the front door and then go up the back stairwell. Which would be a pain in the ass. Watching them come with the first crate on a dolly, he began to doubt. But they lifted it from the dolly and turned it on its side and carried it up the stairs. He picked up the dolly and followed them, figuring they'd rather push it on wheels.

"Thanks," said the other deliveryman, the one who had stayed by the truck.

"No problem."

"Where's it go?"

"Which one is it?"

"Dreamscape, it says on the crate."

Gus' tub. "You can take it in there." He pointed to the guest room.

After they'd carried it in there and set it down, they took the dolly back to the truck and loaded the second tub. They went through the same routine, Justin picking up the dolly and lugging it up the stairs behind them. "The rest of the stuff you can leave in the sitting room for the time being," he said and showed them the way.

The second delivery guy, whose name was Carmichael, whistled. "This is some house."

"We just bought it."

The other guy, Tony, eyed the empty rooms. "Figured."

Justin smiled sheepishly. "Yeah."

"You wanna check this stuff?" asked Carmichael. "Usually you just sign for it and we leave but…"

"Sure."

Getting the guys to open the crates, Justin visually scanned the items and checked to make sure all of the parts on the manifest were included. Then the tops were put back on to keep them safe. "Thanks." He pulled out his wallet and handed them twenty bucks that he could have used but they'd been really nice. "Thanks again."

Once they'd gone, he went to the sitting room and walked around the opened boxes. He wondered if he should call Brian and let him know. He checked his watch. It was three o'clock. Maybe he'd be back from his lunch meeting. Going back downstairs, he found his phone and dialed Brian's office rather than his cell just in case he was still meeting with the other partners. Heard Cynthia answer, "Good afternoon, this is Brian Kinney's office. How may I help you?"

"Hi, Cynthia, it's Justin."

"Justin! How are you? Are you excited?"

"Totally."

"Brian promised me a tour of the house once you guys moved in. I can't wait to see it."

"We'll fix brunch or something and you can come over."

"I'd love it. The Boss is in his office. You wanna talk to him?"

"Thanks."

"See you soon." She transferred him.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

Brian's voice brightened. "Hey, Baby. What's up?"

"Tubs came. And the vanity and toilet and bidet."

"Already? Ahead of schedule."

"What about the glass block for the shower?"

"On order. Should be there by the time they start next month."

"Did you order the sauna?"

"This morning.

"How long will it take to get here?"

"It's coming from New Jersey. Should be here by Wednesday."

"I can't wait to see the suite when we have all of our furniture in place."

"Listen, I gotta run."

"Home for dinner?"

"Late."

"I'll wait."

"Maybe you shouldn't. I might be really late. Like after eight."

"I'll wait. I love you."

"Love you too. Later."

"Later."

Justin snapped close his cell and thought about eating alone. Wondered if he should get used to it. Suddenly he had a vision of himself sitting at the dining table, a wonderful dinner prepared, candles, wine, soft music playing, and no Brian. Again. Was that the way it was going to be? Was that the price they had to pay?

Telling himself that he was being melodramatic, he pushed the thoughts from his head and packed his stuff. There probably wouldn't be any more deliveries today and he needed to do something to distract him from thinking foolish thoughts. 

 

Xavier opened the door to his room and smiled. "Hey, J. What's up?"

"Wanna go look at drafting tables and shit? I gotta set up my studio at home and I figured I'd go looking, see what's out there and how much it's gonna cost."

"Yeah. Hold on." He grabbed his jacket, a new leather jacket Justin noticed.

"Nana Rose got that for you?"

"Sweet, huh? She really missed me." Grinned and locked the door.

They drove down to Utrecht's and wandered around lusting after everything, Xavier, in particular, handling a set of wood carving tools lovingly.

"I didn't know you did any woodworking."

"Not yet but I figured I should learn. Might turn into something."

"Yeah, you can make us some tables for the loggia."

Making their way leisurely through the store, they finally ended up in the furniture section. After looking at several drafting tables and chairs, both he and Xavier figured the best value was the combo set with drafting table, attached lamp, and chair all for a hundred and ninety-nine dollars. Justin walked around the display model and thought about it and thought about it and then he found a sales associate and told her he wanted to buy a set. It'd take almost all of the money his mom had given him for his birthday but it would be worth it. Quickly balancing his checkbook he figured he had a couple hundred dollars left. Just enough for Brian's wedding present. He hoped. Once he figured out what to get him.

Taking a dolly, he and Xavier carted the table and chair out to the Cherokee in two big boxes.

"You want me to go with you and unload it?" offered Xavier.

"Thanks but I'll wait until tomorrow. Brian can help me. I hope. If he's home." He hadn't wanted to add that last part but it slipped out. _Just go home and forget about it_ , he told himself.

"You wanna grab something to eat?"

"I told Brian I'd wait for him but he said not to."

Xavier laughed. "You haven't answered my question."

"Yeah. Why not?" Why not have dinner with Xavier? Better than eating alone. 

 

"I bought Nana Rose this pair of inline skates. You should see her go. We went down to East Potomac Park and she tried 'em out. Totally out of control. Waving people out the way."

Justin laughed just imagining Nana Rose teetering on the skates, careening out of control. "How many times did she fall down?"

Shaking his head, Xavier replied, "Man, I ain't never heard that kind of language before." They both laughed. "But, got her a date."

"What?"

"This guy helped her up and he was all cheesin'. They got to talking and next thing I know, he's macking her like crazy. They hooked up that weekend, you should have seen her. She was looking fly; that dress she had on was off da heezy. I started to lock her up. Man, that's my grandma. She ain't nobody's shorty, yo."

Laughing, Justin knew he'd made the right decision coming out tonight. If he'd stayed home, he would have just sulked over being by himself and by the time Brian got home he would have been brewing for an argument. Of course, he couldn't decide if he'd tell Brian he was out with Xavier—without Rennie. He didn't know how Brian would take that. He'd suggested himself that Justin call Xavier and Rennie to come over to the house for the housewarming so maybe he was okay with Xavier. But then Justin remembered Brian saying that he was always shoving Xavier in his face. Maybe he hadn't meant it, had only been angry and grabbing at anything to say. "She bringing this guy to the wedding?"

"Nope. They broke up a week later. He was all over her, twenty-four seven, wanting to move in. She told him to take his ghetto ass away from her and git to steppin'."

"Stop it," Justin told him, laughing so hard he had to put his soda down before he spilled it. He could see her saying that too. "Why did she hook up with him in the first place?

"Guess she got needs too," he said, raising a brow and that cracked Justin up even more.

After dinner, they went to Woody's and hung out for an hour or so, nursing a couple of beers that the bartender slipped them--recognizing Justin as a regular-- and talking until Justin checked his watch and realized that it was almost ten. "Shit. I gotta go."

"Bust a move then."

Dropping Xavier off first, he hurried home and hoped that Brian hadn't gotten there first.

Brian was home. The Jeep was parked outside. No telling how long he'd been there. Parking, Justin rushed upstairs and then paused outside the door, catching his breath.

He looked up from his papers as Justin came in. "Thought you were waiting for me?"

"I went out," he explained, "and got a drafting table and chair for my studio." Of course, that didn't explain why he was coming in after ten.

"Oh."

"It's in the car."

"Good."

Justin sat next to Brian on the bed. "You eat yet?"

"Wasn't hungry."

"When did you get home?"

Shrugged. "Don't remember."

Which meant he'd been here a long time. Fuck. "Sorry. I should have waited."

"I told you I'd be late and not to wait for me." He stood and carried the papers he'd been looking through to his desk and put them inside his briefcase.

"Brian?"

"Hmm?"

"I'll fix you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

Nearing him, he waited. Something was wrong and they needed to talk it out.

Finally Brian came clean. "I got home around six. And I waited."

"You should have called me on my cell."

"I figured you must have gotten a better offer," Brian said and he walked past Justin towards the bedroom.

"Bri—"

"You weren't with Xavier?" he asked, knowing that he had been. He could smell Xavier's cologne in his clothes. Justin didn't wear cologne because of his allergies, and neither did he, so it had to have been Xavier.

"We had dinner." He followed his lover. "You should have called. You could have had dinner with us."

Brian snorted. "No thanks." Pulled off his shirt and pants and got in bed.

"You're not going to eat?"

"I told you I'm not hungry."

"Is this my punishment? Because I wasn't here?"

"How is it hurting you if I don't eat?" he asked and he turned onto his right side and closed his eyes.

Justin stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, getting angrier and angrier and finally said, "Fuck it," and went to the bathroom.

Brian heard him storm into the other room and clenched his jaw. What the fuck was he doing? Why was he so angry with Justin? All he'd done was eat with Xavier, maybe went out and had a couple drinks someplace. That's what friends did, that's what he and Mikey would have done if he'd called him up. And Justin wouldn't have copped an attitude with him so why was he pissed off that Justin had done the same thing? _Because it's Xavier and you're never going to be able to forget, are you?_

He rolled onto his back. He had to forget, had to, because they were getting married in three weeks and they didn't need the bullshit and that's all it was, bullshit. He was pissed because Justin hadn't sat at home pining for him. That's what it boiled down to because he knew that Justin didn't want Xavier, that all he'd done was to go see a friend and hang out for a few hours. Get over it. He sat up and waited for Justin to come out. Which he did in a few minutes. Before Justin could speak, he said, "I'm sorry." Looked down at his lap. "I… I told you not to wait and then I got mad because you didn't. And I used Xavier as an excuse to get angry when I didn't have any right to be angry. I'm sorry."

Justin stripped and crawled in next to him, wrapping arms and legs about him, his head on his chest. "Why do you do these things?"

"I don't know."

He looked up. "That's the answer you tell a child. I'm not a child anymore. I want a man's answer."

Brian moistened his lips. "I don't know," he repeated, softer this time and Justin accepted his answer because there were some things that Brian didn't understand about himself and it would take time, time and a lot of talking before he'd be able to figure them out. Luckily, they had an entire lifetime. 

 

As usual, they were up late making up and overslept despite the incessant clamor of the alarm clock. When the sound finally penetrated his dreams, Brian reached over Justin and shut it off, then nudged his lover awake and closed his eyes again. "How did the morning get here so fast?"

Justin yawned. "You gotta go meet the contractors."

"Mmm…" Brian sat up and stretched. Shook his head like a dog just coming in from the rain. "I'm up."

"Come on, let's go take a shower. Maybe that'll wake you up."

It did; although Justin steadfastly refused to fool around once he was awake which put a damper on his enthusiasm for the day. But, considering he was going to meet with the contractors, he was still pretty excited. After he'd gotten dressed, as he sipped a cup of coffee, he dialed Joanie. "Hi, Mom. You ready?" Put down the cup as his tie felt weird. Readjusted it.

"Yes, although I don't know why I'm going. You know what you want."

"I know but you're the designer. A big part of designing is meeting with the contractors and you need that experience. Plus, the more contractors you know, the better off you'll be. A lot of people call contractors to get designer recommendations."

"All right. I'll meet you there at eight."

"Got your cards?" She and Justin had designed a business card for her: JK Design.

"I've got them."

"See ya, Mom." Put down the phone and untied his tie.

Observing him from the table where he was finishing off a bowl of cereal, Justin said, "Must have been sleepier than you thought."

"Well, if someone hadn't kept me up last night…"

"You'd be grumpy this morning." He stood and took Brian's tie away from him. Kissed him. "Admit it, you're in a much better mood this morning."

"I'm in a much better mood," Brian said in a less than enthusiastic voice.

Justin tickled him, making him laugh. "Say it. Say it!"

"I'm in a much better mood," he confessed and waited while Justin retied his tie.

"There." He kissed Brian again and handed him his coffee cup. 

 

Feeling like Ward Cleaver, Brian left the loft and went to meet his mom and the contractors. He supposed the feeling would only increase when they had moved into the house. Suddenly he had this vision of himself walking out of the house to go to work while Justin waved from the doorway wearing an apron and a strand of pearls. He shuddered and tried to clear his mind of the image. No way would they end up like that. No matter what.

Joanie was waiting inside when he got there, puttering around in the kitchen with some curtains, standing on a short stepladder. "Hey. Those are nice. You make 'em?"

"Yes, I did." Each set was comprised of two simple tab-top panels, hung just below the beginning of the arch in the window, leaving the curved part uncovered.

"You've got the preliminary plans they sent over?"

"Yes."

"And you'll talk to the contractors, make sure they have all the stuff we want?"

"I can talk, you know."

"Cynthia checked them out, made sure they're licensed and that they have insurance coverage; and we will be getting the lien waivers from them to make sure we're not paying for this shit for years to come. We'll get copies of the permits once they take them out."

"Okay, but you'll be here too. Won't you?"

"I gotta go." He hadn't told Justin because he hadn't wanted him to worry but he had an appointment to see Drew this morning. Last night, he'd felt tense all evening until he'd finally called the shrink and made an appointment. Which, in light of their subsequent argument, had been a good thing.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Meeting. In like twenty minutes."

"Brian?" she began, a little panicked.

"You'll do fine. Make sure they give you a project timeline and confirm the start date. They're responsible for signing for the stuff that's delivered for the job once they're on the job so make sure they're gonna do it. And find out if they're bringing a dumpster with them and where it's going. They can put it next to the courtyard if they want. They can take those stairs down to the courtyard and then out the pergola. But they cannot park their fucking trucks on the grass everyday. Tell them to walk up the back stairs from the kitchen and park on the asphalt. Thanks, Mom."

"All, all right." Her head was swimming with details.

He opened his briefcase and took out a sheet of paper. "It's all written down." Kissed her on the cheek. "Later."

Joanie looked at the checklist of items and wished she had a chair to sit on. 

 

"So, I'm guessing there's a problem," said Drew, flipping open his notepad.

"Of course, there's a problem. Why else would I be here contributing to your next trip to Cancun?"

"I've never been to Cancun," said Drew, "I can't seem to get away from my patients."

Brian grimaced. "Sorry."

It'd been late and Drew had been in the mood for love, had just about convinced Terrance that he ought to stay the night when the phone rang giving the man just the opportunity he needed to slip away. Drew supposed he could have let the machine pick up but he had only given his direct line to a select few of his patients and had promised himself—and them—that he would answer if at all humanly possible. He never wanted to miss one of Brian's calls, not after the close call they'd had back in the spring. "What's up?" he asked, in a much less aggravated voice.

"I don't know. Last night I worked late. I told Justin not to wait for me and he didn't. He went out with Xavier and I knew that's where he was and I just—" shook his head. "I acted like a total jerk and he got mad and the only reason we didn't have a knock-down, drag-out fight was that he had the good sense to walk away."

"Was it Xavier?"

"No. I know Justin doesn't want Xavier. I know that. I don't know what in the fuck is wrong with me." He had no clue sometimes why he did the things he did and last night, last night had been a prime example. Why had he gotten so angry?

Drew smiled. This was an easy one. At least in terms of identifying the cause of his anxiety. As for curing it… "How are plans going for the wedding?"

"Fine."

"No problems?"

"No. Everything's on schedule. We're moving into the house this weekend and the contractors are starting next month on renovating the bathroom. Things are going better than I expected."

"Excited?"

"Yeah." How this was helping he had no idea but he'd humor the doc.

"Tell me about the ceremony."

"We have this Irish priest, her name is Rev. Ophelia and she looks like the Vicar of Dibley." Drew laughed, he loved that show. "It's pretty standard, I guess. She says some words and a whole lot of prayers and they play music and we say, 'I do' and light the candle and say our vows and then we're married."

"Writing your own vows?"

"Supposed to." He hadn't found any time to work on them, every moment at work was filled with some meeting he had to attend, some fire he had to put out. And last night he'd come home and hadn't been able to concentrate in between finding fault with Justin for not being there.

"Nervous?"

"No."

He'd answered way too quickly. "Sure? Wouldn't be the first time a groom got nervous before his wedding."

"I said I'm fine." Standing, Brian went to the window and looked at the sky. It was clear but they were due snow. Again.

Drew was convinced that Brian was unconscious of how his body betrayed him. Despite the fact that a lot of his job was knowing how to read people, Brian seemed blissfully unaware of the signals he was sending sometimes. So he was nervous about the wedding and was in big time denial about it. "How many people did you invite to the wedding? I got my invitation, by the way, it's beautiful."

"Justin designed it." He shrugged. "We're supposed to have less than thirty. Manageable."

"Yeah, but it's still a lot of people."

"They'll fit. It's a big house, Doc." Brian had sidestepped that issue but had stepped right into another.

"Big responsibility."

"Well, I won't be going on any extravagant buying sprees any time soon. Unless it's for the house."

"No Armani Spring Collection?"

"Or Fall."

"How will you stand it?"

"I'll be married. Nobody cares how married guys look." He grumbled, "Not even them. You should see some of Ryder's outfits."

"I don't think the fashion police will be after you just yet."

"Give them time. Especially after we've been on a budget for a while." He returned to his seat. "It's weird, having to think about the house and Justin and Gus…" Crossed his legs. "Guess I really am a family man now."

"You've been a family man for a while now," Drew reminded him.

"I guess. It was just different somehow."

"How?"

Shrugged again. "I guess having a wedding makes it official, somehow."

"And a little scary?"

At first he started to deny it but he couldn't deny the way his heart had started to race just thinking about standing up in front of a group of people and swearing his undying love for Justin. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"It'll only be family and friends, people who wish you the best."

"It's not the wedding, Doc. It's everything after." He fidgeted, then made himself sit still. "Making good on all those promises you made."

"You made them before. There just weren't any witnesses." Referring to their having exchanged rings.

Brian laughed bitterly. "And look how well we did."

"You survived everything life threw at you and you're about to be married. I think that qualifies you to go to the head of the class."

"Then how come I feel like a total doofus?"

"Because you care. Because you want to do what's right and because you're taking a big step. You have every right to be scared, to be concerned. No one's gonna fault you for having a case of nerves."

"Justin will, if I chicken out."

"You're not going to chicken out. I won't let you. Your friends won't let you. And, most importantly, Justin would hunt you down and marry you in a bus station bathroom if he had to."

Brian chuckled. "Fuck," he agreed. "He would." Checking, he asked, "You'll be at the wedding?"

"I'll be there," laughed Drew.

"With a date?"

"Not the guy from last night, that's for sure," he teased and Brian shrugged. Win some, lose some. 

 

"Mr. Taylor," began Professor Lennox.

Justin jerked and dropped his chalk.

"That's interesting. Pop culture meets high culture." He'd drawn a picture of Gus and Beh peering down from the clouds. "I see your trip to Italy wasn't wasted." Lennox walked on and Justin exhaled.

After class Rennie and Xavier pestered him until he showed them the drawing.

Rennie giggled. "What's this for?"

"Gus' room in the house. I thought I could paint it on the ceiling."

"Boy Wonder, you paint for shit." Which was true, he was a great draftsman but his painting technique sucked.

Xavier patted Rennie on the shoulder. "I hear a volunteer. Did you hear it too, J?"

"I heard it." He and Xavier walked on ahead.

"Wait! I didn't volunteer for anything."

"Wedding present," Justin told her when she'd caught up. "Think of how grateful Brian will be."

"If he's not gonna fuck me, I don't know that I really care about how grateful he's gonna be."

Justin dangled a temptation in front of her face. "Might be a big, wet kiss in it for you."

"You'd let him kiss me?" Rennie asked.

"Depends on how good a job you do."

"I'm the best," she bragged and puffed out her chest. Already her head was swimming with visions of Brian kissing her. Hell, she'd take what she could get.

"And no vaginas," Justin warned.

"Unless you want to turn Gus gay," added Xavier giggling.

"No way, he's mine," she said. "Just give him another fifteen years."

"I think Molly might beat you to it," said Justin.

"But she's like his aunt. Isn't that incest?"

"They're not blood related," Xavier pointed out.

Justin thought it was too cute. Molly had definitely taken a shine to the little boy. Brian joked that two of his Straight Girls for Brian Kinney club members had defected and all he had left was Daphne. Which was okay with Justin. He didn't like sharing him anyway. 

 

He looked around the kitchen. "The curtains look great."

"Thank you. Brian liked them too."

Justin's smile widened. "Did you do the placemats and napkins yet?"

She showed him those as well and he put them in a drawer in the china hutch after admiring them a great deal. They'd cleaned out the drawers of all the cabinets and put down paper linings.

"Thanks for everything," he told her and he bussed her cheek.

"You're welcome. Now," she said, gathering her things, "I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow. With the table cloth."

"Hopefully the table will come sometime this week. Oh, how did it go with the contractors?"

"They were very nice. I think they'll do a great job. They're gay, you know."

He did know. Someone had recommended them and he was glad that they'd worked out. Brian wasn't in for throwing people work just because they were gay and if he gave someone an opportunity to prove themselves and they failed, it didn't matter if they were queer or not. They were history.

"And some of your furniture for the bedroom came this morning. It's up on the second floor. I think it's the armoire for your bedroom. And three smaller boxes from Spiegel's."

"The bedspread and canopy and the lamps."

After she'd gone, he went upstairs and checked the crate. It was the armoire. He'd wait for Brian to uncrate it. Also checked the bed linens and the lamps. Perfect. Then he trekked out to the Cherokee and removed the box with the drafting table by himself. It wasn't super heavy, just awkward to handle but he managed to get it to the sunroom. Went back for the chair and laid the box down. The only bad thing about the solarium is that you really didn't want to lean anything up against the walls even though they had to be sturdy to withstand weather.

A half hour later, he had everything assembled. Now where to put the table. He was tempted to leave it in the middle of the floor but he figured it'd be better situated closer to an actual wall or window since Gus would come in and want to run around and if it were out of the way, that'd be a hundred times better than trying to tell him not to run into it. Even better, they should probably get Gus an easel of his own since he'd more than likely spend a lot of time out here with Justin. He smiled, imagining the two of them in the studio, Gus at his easel, him at his drafting table. The draw of the pool was too much and he situated the drafting table by that view, turned to the side so that he didn't have his back to the door or to the window. Stood looking at the covered pool, visualizing it full of water, their family and friends sprawled around it and in it. They'd definitely have to have a pool party at the beginning of summer.

Taking out his pad, he began to sketch. At first it was a sketch of the backyard and the pool and gradually Brian's form took shape, floating in the water, just beneath the water, his slender frame breaking the surface at head and shoulder, hip and calf. It reminded him of David Hockney's paintings of boys by the pool. Maybe he should do a drawing of Brian by the pool, in the pool as one of his commissions.

Restless, he left the studio and walked through the reception hall, mentally arranging the decorations for the wedding. He and Joanie had created a floor plan mapping out where the chairs would go and where everything and everyone would go up front where the ceremony would take place. Plus, they'd formed a decorations map, indicating what would go where. He couldn't wait for the wedding. And he couldn't wait for it to be over. He was exhausted. Sitting on the bottom step of the stairs in the tower, he leaned against the banister and closed his eyes. Just for a moment.

When he awoke, someone, Brian he supposed, was coming through the door. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and waited.

"Hey."

"Hey. You're early."

"I got out of a boring, fucking meeting because one of the company reps got sick. Cancelled. So I hauled ass. Dinner?"

"Here?"

"Come on." Justin followed Brian to the kitchen whereupon the ad exec went outside and returned with a picnic basket. "Voila."

"A picnic?"

"For two."

Justin took the basket from him and opened it. Inside was half a roasted chicken, a green bean salad, a bottle of wine, plates, glasses, and candles. "You did this?"

"Well… my Girl Friday made the call."

"Where are we going to eat?" Justin asked to cover his joy. "We don’t have a table yet."

"Ah." He brought a blanket out from behind his back. "What's a picnic without one?"

"Bring the ants too?"

"Next time."

They set up their picnic out in the solarium, turning the floor heating up just a tad.

"This is really romantic," Justin told him.

"I figured I owed you after last night."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not. I told you a long time ago not to take any shit from me and I meant it. I don’t want to lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"We could be in the same house and be a million miles apart. There's other kinds of leaving."

"I know." His mom and dad's marriage had been like that. By the end, they might as well have been living in separate houses. "I don't want that either."

"So, I guess our options are for me to stop behaving like an asshole—"

"Never," joked Justin.

"Or for us to keep fighting and making up."

Justin moved closer to him. "I like making up."

"I like your drafting table."

Laughing, Justin shoved Brian gently, then drew him nearer and kissed him.

They huddled beneath the blanket in the studio and watched as the stars peeked out from behind the dark curtain of the sky.

"We should go. Got a lot of packing to do between now and Saturday."

"Yeah," agreed Justin. "I guess. It's nice here."

"In three days, we'll be here forever."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

So they stowed the remains of their picnic dinner in the basket and grabbed blanket, backpack, and sketchpad; cut off all the lights; set the alarm, and locked the door.

Three days. 

 

Three days and a hundred things to do before Saturday morning.

Joanie was busy house sitting for deliveries while trying to make sure that all of the windows had some sort of covering, even if it was just temporary. Problem was, they had so many windows the job seemed Herculean. As a last resort to save her sanity, she decided to prioritize and do the rooms that they deemed most important: their suite, Gus' room, the family room, and the kitchen. Plus, they wanted to cover all of the windows on the front of the house on the first floor, the second floor could wait.

Justin was having to check the closing list for the loft to make sure they hadn't packed anything that they were supposed to leave behind. Plus, he had to arrange for the gas delivery for the fireplace in their room and the Aga oven and the Wolf cooktop range, pick up a load of wood for the fireplaces, and make out a grocery list so that they could minimize the amount of time they spent in the supermarket when they went on Thursday.

But, for all of their running around, things were proceeding rather smoothly. The last of the big items they'd ordered for Gus' bedroom, including his bed, arrived on Wednesday and Joanie began setting up his room even though Rennie would have to paint in there when she had a chance. They'd just have to spread tarp over everything because they wanted the room to be ready when they moved in officially on Saturday. They had a hunch Gus wouldn't take no for an answer when he wanted to stay and they knew he'd want to stay since he hadn't spent an entire weekend with them in ages. They still had to wait for the table and chairs, the linens they'd ordered on Saturday, and for their bed but they had the furniture store's sworn promise that it would show up on Saturday and for what they were paying, it better had.

In the afternoon on Thursday and Friday, Justin, Rennie, and Xavier worked on the mural for Gus' room. Although there was still more to come, they got most of it finished and it looked amazing just the way it was. Justin was sure Gus would love it.

Plus, while they were there, the coffee table arrived and the hamper for their bathroom.

Thursday night, Brian and Justin went grocery shopping and put everything in the refrigerator and freezer at the house. They'd take the rest of the food out of the loft on Saturday morning and give it a good cleaning before they surrendered the place to its new owners.

Justin was very sensitive to the fact that Brian was having a problem thinking of the loft as belonging to someone else yet there was very little he could do to make things better. At best, he could share in Brian's misery and, at worst, he could acerbate the problem. He chose to leave it alone. If Brian needed comforting, he knew how to sigh. 

 

Friday night came and they both were sighing. They'd packed most of their belongings and still there seemed to be so much more that they were taking.

"What the fuck is in those boxes?"

"Ask yourself. It's mostly your stuff from storage."

"No telling then." Maybe old textbooks from college, clothes he no longer wore or would be seen in. Some of the boxes held Christmas decorations from the past two years. Some Justin's stuff. And there were more of Justin's things still at Jenn's place. They could bring them home now. Home. Where they had a huge basement just waiting to hold all the junk they didn't want cluttering up their living space.

Turning down offers of assistance from their friends, they waded through their stuff by themselves until they were assured that they'd packed everything and labeled every box. Since they had a few hours left before they collapsed, they packed up the refrigerator too and gave it a good cleaning which amounted to a wiping down as the freezer defrosted itself and they kept the lower part virtually spotless.

"Don't forget we have that box in there tomorrow," Brian said, and Justin took the magic marker they'd been using to label boxes and put a sign on the refrigerator door that said, 'Take the box inside.' Brian smiled and hugged him. "So smart."

"And cute too."

By eleven they were too tired to do anything more than pull off their clothes and collapse.

"Last night in this bed," Brian said. Justin crawled over and laid upon his chest.

"Lotta mileage."

He chuckled. "Most orgasms in a single bed."

"What do you remember most?"

"About the bed?"

"About the guys you were with."

"Not much. Except that it was fun. Most of the time."

"What do you remember most about the loft?"

Brian smiled. "You. That first time. You said you liked my kitchen." He laughed. "For a minute, I thought I had lost my touch but then I realized you were just nervous."

"I thought I was gonna pass out. I was so scared."

"Of what?"

"Of you laughing at me, I suppose."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't know anything."

"Fast study."

Justin grinned. "Good teacher."

"The best."

Stroking Brian's chest, Justin asked, "Think there's anything left for me to learn?"

"Plenty," replied Brian.

"Good. Then our new bed won't get jealous of the old one."

And they reminisced about their favorite moments in the bed and in the loft until sleep slipped up and took them. 

 

Moving day. Moving day!

Justin opened his eyes and checked the sky through the blinds. Clear. Clear but cold. No problem. They'd heat up plenty carrying and unloading boxes and arranging furniture and running up and down the stairs. They'd probably wish there was an elevator in the house before they were done. Still, at least they didn't have to transfer any heavy furniture from the loft to the house; the heaviest pieces they had to carry were the treadmill, the chaise lounge, the Turner prints left to them by Sebastian, and the painting from the wall, which was probably heavier than the Le Corbusier.

Turning to Brian, he touched his back and asked, "You awake?"

Brian inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Turned over. "Yeah."

"Ready?"

"Guess."

"Better shower and get ready so we can clean up the bathroom, strip the bed."

Brian agreed.

"I can't believe they're gonna use the same mattress," Justin said as they padded to the bathroom.

"I asked them if they wanted us to get rid of it and they said no, they'd keep it."

"Maybe they're going to sell it for medical research. For all the—" Brian kissed him before he could finish his sentence. "You did that on purpose."

"So smart."

Under the guise of saving their energy for moving, they didn't fool around in the shower but Brian seemed subdued to Justin. By the time they'd dressed and begun cleaning the bathroom and bedroom, he was certain. And he knew why. It was finally happening, today was the day they gave up the loft and, despite loving the house, despite their having talked about it numerous times, Brian was still feeling a little blue. The feeling only intensified when the guys called saying they were on their way with the U-Haul and Justin figured there was nothing left to do except to let Brian work it out for himself.

If the guys noticed, they didn't let on. Boisterous as puppies, they tumbled into the loft and began loading the elevator with boxes.

"Might as well use it while we can," said Emmett quite reasonably.

"Wouldn't want Miss Scarlett to break out in a sweat," Ted teased.

Emmett corrected him. "Men sweat, ladies perspire, and men with delicate constitutions glow."

"Well, then, could you move your glowing asses on?" growled Brian and Justin made a motion behind his back that only the guys could see.

Don't mind him, it said and they all made note of it and went about their business.

"You want some juice?" asked Justin. They hadn't eaten and all Brian had taken was some water. Maybe hunger was contributing to his bad mood.

"No, I do not want any juice," replied Brian. Then he relented a little, "I'll eat when we get to the house."

Lifting a box marked, 'Toys,' Michael asked, "You're not bringing the chest?"

"Nope. It goes with the bedroom furniture so we're leaving it. Buying another one."

At last the loft was empty of their belongings. Brian held the last box, from his desk. They'd run the mop over the floors and a cloth over the wood surfaces to remove any excess dust and, now there was nothing left to do but to turn over the keys to the super to give to the new owners and leave.

Signaling to the guys, Justin went downstairs to wait. Brian needed a moment alone.

He was aware of them leaving and was grateful to Justin. No matter how many times he'd told himself that they were selling the loft and moving on, he hadn't really prepared himself for this moment, for the feeling of emptiness that had started in his belly and spread. Setting the box on the counter, he looked around the loft remembering the first time he'd walked through the apartment, knowing it had to be his; his first night in his new home—which he spent alone—wanting to savor it without company, not even Mikey; the first guy he'd done there, bringing him back to his place and watching the man's eyes light up, feeling energized by that look; the first party he'd thrown, the envy on the faces of his guests feeding his pride, helping to still the lingering doubts he'd had as to whether he'd made it, whether he'd done good.

And he remembered, with a smile, the first time Justin had seen the loft, knowing, in an instant, that he'd entered someplace different from the world he'd been used to; dancing together before making love for the first time, the way the loft had looked, decked out in flickering candles, a gentle haven for two lovers just starting out it seemed; moving Justin's stuff in after he'd asked him to share his home, making space in his apartment and in his life; standing by the window after the New Year's Eve party, trembling as Justin accepted the ring he offered, accepted his offer to share his life, another new beginning; the night Gus had called Justin 'Pooh' for the first time; the night he'd called Justin 'Daddy' for the first time.

Sniffling, he told himself that although this was a new beginning too, it was also an continuation of the past, a continuation of the building they'd begun in this place. They would take the loft with them to their new home: in their memories, in the photos he'd taken, in the things that came from their old home to find special places in their new home, and in him. The loft had been part of who he was and he would carry that person inside him no matter where he went.

"Later," he whispered and picked up the last box and walked down the stairs to see the super.

"There he is," said Em, pushing off the front of the truck that he'd been leaning against.

Justin, touching Brian's arm, asked, "Ready?"

"Let's move." Opening the passenger door, he stowed the box on the front seat. Justin hopped in the Cherokee, Ted got in his car, and Michael and Em mounted up in the truck. Starting their engines, the Great Gay Cavalcade got underway.

Looking back in his rearview mirror, Brian saw Em doing the Hail Jesus and laughed. Remembered him saying on their trip to NY that a snack and a song could turn any moment into an occasion. Justin waved at him at stoplights and he shook his head. His Baby would never change. And he didn't think he wanted him to.

The Munchers, Jennifer, and Joanie were waiting when they got to the house. Lindz and Mel came out to help unload the truck.

"Where's Gus?" asked Justin, anxious to see the little boy.

"Inside with Jennifer," Lindz replied. "We figured we'd keep him out of the way until we were done bringing in the boxes."

"My mom finish his room?" Brian asked.

"She's putting up the curtains right now."

"Yeah, she wouldn't let us see," Mel complained.

"Just following orders."

"Asshole."

"Speaking of orders," said Justin, "here's one. Get busy."

Ted snickered. "You've been letting him top you again, haven't you?" he asked Brian.

Before he could answer, Justin said, "Move it!"

They headed for the truck and waited while Brian and Emmett pulled open the door.

"So where's the rest of the cast of Zoom?" asked Michael

"They came over on Thursday and Friday to help do the mural in Gus' room." He turned his mind to the moment. "I think Mel and Lindz should get inside the truck and hand off to two of us who'll carry the boxes to the back and leave them and then the rest of us can carry the boxes upstairs—except for the ones that go in the kitchen."

"I think that plan is a little chauvinistic," said Lindsay.

"Well, you can carry the boxes up the stairs and I'll stay in the truck and hand off," offered Brian.

"Why don't we all just get the boxes from the truck and carry them up the stairs?" suggested Michael in the spirit of being fair.

Ted thought for a moment. "Justin's right. It makes more sense to form a daisy chain, that way we expend less energy. Isn't that right, Bri?"

Brian grinned, he'd been in enough daisy chains to know.

To forestall another argument with the women, Em said, "How about we trade off when somebody gets tired? Then everybody gets a chance to do everything."

"We don't—" began Brian and Justin covered his mouth.

"Deal. Lindsay and Mel can go first in the truck."

So the women climbed up in the truck and handed down the boxes to Em and Brian, who had the longest arms, and they carried them to the house where Ted, Michael, and Justin did stair duty. Before they knew it, the truck was empty.

Having been very careful not to raise his voice so that Gus would hear while they were unloading the truck, Brian called out to him as he went inside with the rest of the crew to find something cool to drink. The little boy came running. "Daddy!" Brian caught hold of him and hugged him. "Hey, Sonny Boy."

"Daddy, look." He showed him a toy sailboat that Jennifer had given him. "Nana Jenn give me."

"She gave you that?"

"Yeah. Put water."

Brian showed it to Justin. "Cool, huh?"

"Very." He took Gus from Brian and kissed him too. "Hey, have you had fun with Nana Jenn?"

"Yeah."

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"Nana's got a surprise for you." Joanie had peeped out of the room and declared it ready as he and Ted and Michael had passed the doorway.

"You wanna go see?" asked Brian and Gus nodded. Justin put him down and the toddler took Brian's hand and walked with him upstairs. Everyone followed, wanting to see what Joanie had put together. At the doorway facing the gallery, Brian knelt and told Gus to close his eyes. He did so and covered his eyes with his hands and giggled. He loved playing hide-and-seek.

Guiding him inside the room once the door was opened, Brian told him to open his eyes and Gus moved his hands and looked and looked and looked.

"Remember coming in here last week? Remember Daddy said this was your room?"

"Yeah." He looked around at Brian. "My room?"

"Uh-huh."

Gus laughed and ran and jumped on the hot red racing car bed. The entire room was devoted to racing cars. Besides the bed, there was a racing car lamp with a car forming part of the base; a racing car clock with a checkered flag up top and a car as a pendulum; a green racing car mirror on which red and yellow cars raced; a personalized table and chair set with a built in race track running from the top, around the base, and down to the floor (there were four or five cars already on the top courtesy of Brian); and there were race cars on the bed sheets and quilt and on one of the area rugs. In a departure from the theme, there was also an ABC rug on the floor which was big enough for him to sit on and trace the letters around the edges; a red, white, and blue toy chest with chalk boards forming the tops and sides; and a beautiful blue night stand upon which sat the lamp and a racing car alarm clock. But the most amazing part of the room was the mural on the wall. It paid homage to his current love of cars and looked to the future when he'd become enamored of other fast vehicles. The lowest level showed cars driving down a road, simple cars, nothing fancy, kind of like Putt Putt cars, but bright and fun; the middle part of the wall was inhabited by planes of all colors and sizes flying in amongst the clouds; and finally, up on the ceiling, in the night sky, was a space ship, heading for the moon and parts unknown.

Lindsay and the other adults marveled at the mural. "Oh, Justin, you did this?"

"Rennie and Xavier did most of the work. I just designed it." Still, he was pleased. It had turned out well. You could smell the paint a little but it wasn't as bad as he'd feared. They'd left the windows cracked all night and it'd helped.

Gus had gotten off of the bed and gone to the wall. Pointed to the car nearest him. "Jeep."

It was a Jeep, bright blue instead of black, but a Jeep just like the one his daddy drove.

Mel turned to Joanie. "This is fantastic." Added wryly, "Thanks a lot. Now he'll never want to leave." But she said it with a smile on her face to let Joanie know that she was pleased too.

Stooping, Brian whispered something to Gus and the baby went to Joanie and tugged on her leg. "Tank you, Nana," he told her and then went to Justin and said, "Tank you, Daddy."

Justin picked him up and hugged him. Rubbed noses. "You're welcome."

In the midst of all the thank you's, Lindsay slipped next to Brian and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything."

"Uh-huh."

"If I had had a room like this, I would have stayed a kid," said Mikey.

"Ah, honey," Em told him, "your room now is like this. Our whole apartment is like this."

Dragging themselves away from the room, the gang went back downstairs and everyone fixed sandwiches and they sat around for an hour eating.

"Do you want any help unpacking?" asked Michael when they were done.

"Nah," replied Brian. "We're taking it slow. Besides, we haven't really figured out where everything's going yet." He got out his wallet. "How much for the truck?"

"Don't worry about it," Ted said. "Just think of it as a housewarming present."

Brian put his arm around Ted's shoulders. "Why, Theodore, I think you might actually like me."

"Well, don't push your luck. I still remember that Dead Man Walking crack."

Em cackled and stopped abruptly when Ted glared at him. "That was one of your better ones, Bri."

"If you don’t need them," Joanie began, "I could use some help with the curtains and shades. I need to put up the ones in your bedroom and the dining room."

"We can help," Mel offered. "I don't think Gus is gonna want to leave for a while."

He was over at the fountain again playing with his toy boat.

Jennifer excused herself. "I have to go show a house this afternoon and pick up your sister."

Justin hugged her. "Thanks for everything, Mom."

"You're welcome, sweetie. Brian."

He kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Jenn."

She waved. "Bye, guys."

Mikey looked around the reception hall. "Well, if the Munchers are helping your mom and you don’t need us…"

"Go. Have fun. Whatever it is you're going to do."

They hugged. "Later."

"Later, Mikey. Guys, thanks."

"Later," said Em and he and Justin smooched. Ted waved and the three of them went out behind Jennifer.

"You keep an eye on him?" asked Lindsay and Brian assured her he would.

"Come on, Gus. We're going upstairs." The toddler followed Brian and Justin upstairs and into the sitting area. "Stay up here with us, okay?"

"Kay."

Just as they were about to start separating the boxes, the doorbell rang.

"The bed?" Justin said hopeful that it had come.

"We'll find out. You'll stay up here with Mini-Me?"

"Go."

Brian flicked on the intercom. "Yeah?"

"Delivery for Brian Kinney."

"Coming." He ran down the tower stairs and beat his mom to the door. "Delivery," he told her. Opened the door to find a guy with a clipboard waiting.

"We've got your bed."

"Sweet."

"We'll bring it in and set it up." And he went back to the truck.

"Talkative," said Brian. He hit the intercom and buzzed Justin upstairs. "It's the bed."

"Yes!"

An hour later the two guys had the bed assembled upstairs. "Where are your mattresses?"

"Coming," Brian told them.

"Sign here."

He signed. Gave them a tip and showed them the door. When he got back upstairs the women had joined Justin in their room and were marveling at the size of the bed.

"Wow," said Mel, "I think this one's actually bigger than the last one."

Running her hand over the foot board, Lindz asked, "What is that?"

"Crocodile leather," answered Brian. She snatched away her hand.

"Faux crocodile leather," added Justin.

"You gonna have a canopy like Scarlett O'Hara? " teased Mel.

"Beaded draped canopy." Going out into the sitting room, he found the box with the linens in it. Opened it and showed the canopy to them, holding it against the bed poles.

"That looks fantastic," said Joanie. "Now if the mattress would only come."

Within the next forty-five minutes, the dining table, chairs, and side board for the family room arrived. Another set of delivery guys, just as talkative, but very efficient. They had everything set up by the windows in the family room and were gone again in no time flat.

"Gotta get a rug in here," said Brian. "The—" The doorbell rang again. "The mattress," he predicted.

And it was. The guys carried it up and put it on the bed, accepted their tip, and were gone before the women had finished admiring the dining table.

"I would never have thought that you would go for something that rustic looking," Mel said to Brian.

"Sometimes I like it rough," he grinned.

"Well, look at these shades and tell me if you like them," said Joanie and she lead him into the dining room and showed him the window treatment. Each of the windows was covered by a sheer, soft, reddish-beige cloth shade that was gathered along the top and drawn up to form billowing puffs and drapes at the bottom.

"Nice."

"They're called shirred cloud shades."

"I wonder why?"

Mel leaned against Lindsay. "What else?"

"I don't have anything for the galleries yet so all that's left is the master suite. I wanted to wait to see how the ones in the dining room looked first before ordering any shades for the hallway."

"Let's get a move on."

"I hope you like the shades I bought," Joanie told Brian. "They're sheer but you can adjust them to block out the light. And the soft gold color goes well with the curtains Justin ordered."

While the women attended to the curtains and shades, Brian and Justin got out a crowbar (bought especially for the move) and opened the crate with the armoire in it. The piece was beautiful, a dark wood cabinet with a latticework pattern on the doors that echoed the diamond pattern of the faux crocodile leather on the foot board and headboard.

Before the hour was out, the curtains were up, the television, VCR, DVD player, and stereo were in place in the armoire along with their DVDs, VHS tapes, and CDs, and Brian and Justin had managed to put the sheets and comforter on the bed after chasing Gus off about a half dozen times.

Seeing Brian and Justin place a table lamp on an upturned box on either side of the bed, Lindsay asked, "No nightstands?"

"We wanted something really cool to go with the bed but we haven't found it yet," said Justin.

"So," asked Joanie, "what else can we do?"

"Nothing, really," Brian replied. "Like we said, we're taking it slow, unpacking a little at a time. Look, you've done enough. Go home, take a rest."

She touched her fingers to the back of her neck. "I am a little tired."

"Then go home. I'll give you a call tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. We've still got a lot to discuss about the wedding." Bending over, she held open her arms and Gus came to her for a hug and kiss. "Bye-bye, Gus."

"Bye-bye, Nana."

"Maybe we oughta go too," suggested Mel.

"I could use a nap," said Lindz. "You sure you don't—" At Brian's look, she held out her hands in mock defense. "All right." To Mel, "Do you think we can get Mini-Me to come home?"

"Not on your life. After seeing that race car bed, I'd be surprised if he ever wants to come home."

Lindsay tried. "You ready to go home, Gus?" He shook his head and moved closer to Brian. "You want to stay with Daddy for the weekend?"

"Yeah."

"Did you ask Daddy if you could?"

He looked up at Brian. "Daddy? Stay?"

Brian lifted him up. "I think we can find room for you."

"My room," said Gus.

He laughed. "That's right, your room."

"You've got clothes for him?" she asked.

"Extras from the loft," said Justin.

So he gave Mommy and Mama a big kiss and hug and walked with them downstairs and waved from the kitchen doorway. When the women were gone, Justin said, "I'm hungry. Is anyone else hungry?"

"Yeah!" yelled Gus.

"What about you, Pookie? You hungry?"

Brian nuzzled his neck. "I'll eat later," he promised with a grin and Justin felt warm all of a sudden.

Carrying their snacks upstairs, the three men sat on the bed and watched a little TV while they ate and then went back to unpacking. That is, the two older men went back to unpacking, Gus played in his room. Brian and Justin could hear him sending his cars down the track table saying, "Room, room, room room."

First, they unpacked their clothes and arranged them in the walk-in closet, Brian taking one side and Justin the other. If Justin had ever seen Brian more content, he didn't know when. The man was in heaven. There was room for everything and he used every inch.

"What if you buy something new?"

"There's space on the other side."

"Oh, no, you don't."

Brian embraced Justin. "You wouldn’t let me borrow a shelf or two?" Kissed him on the neck. "Not even one cubby hole?" Another kiss.

"Maybe," he relented and raised his face for a kiss which Brian bestowed upon him forthwith. "Okay, my hole is yours," and they both laughed until tears sprang up in the corners of their eyes.

The earth tone colors of the thick, thirsty towels they'd bought in anticipation of their new bathroom matched the terracotta-colored tiles and beige walls perfectly. For Gus' bathroom, they'd gotten navy blue towels and bought him a fluffy white bathrobe which they hung on a hook by the storage bench next to the vanity.

Walking around in his bare feet, Brian said, "You know, the floor's not cold at all. Maybe we don't need to get any rugs right away up here."

"I think you're right about the table and chairs though, there definitely needs to be a rug underneath it, keep the chair legs from scratching the tile."

"Let's go tomorrow. See what we can see."

"Maybe jute or something like that."

"That won't show dirt," added Brian.

"You're thinking like a dad."

He smiled. "I am a dad. And," he added, "we need to buy some security gates for the stairs. I don't want him falling down again."

A few minutes later, Gus came running out. "Daddy!" Both Justin and Brian looked around and then smiled at one another. Gus went to Justin. "Look." He had the racing car alarm clock. "Car."

"I see it. It's a clock too. See?" He pointed to the moving hands. "Clock."

"Cock," replied Gus. Showed it to Brian. "Cock." Brian and Justin could barely hold it in, could barely wait until he'd taken the car back to his room before collapsing in laughter.

In between snorts, Brian said, "I think his voice is getting deeper."

"Early puberty," joked Justin.

Now that they had room for them all, they figured they might as well unpack all their books and display them on the shelves. It made for an eclectic collection. Old math books next to marketing guides and weighty art tomes.

"You still think you and Daphne might have a kid someday?" asked Brian as he flipped through a biology lab manual. Why had he kept it?

Justin paused with the book about Lucien Freud that Brian had bought him for his nineteenth birthday in his hands. "It's possible."

Saying nothing else, Brian put the lab manual in the reject pile and continued to put books up on the shelves, which piqued Justin's curiosity.

"Why?"

"Just wondering," he replied without pausing.

"O-kay."

A minute passed and Brian said, "I was just thinking that maybe we could build a guest house out back and use the other bedroom as another bedroom if we had another kid. That's all."

"There's room enough in the back yard." Then he added, "But if we did have a child, it wouldn't be for a long time, maybe when I'm 28, 29, like you and Lindsay did."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed."

"I just said oh."

Gus came out of his room again, this time carrying Beh. "I hungry, Daddy," he told Brian. "Beh hungry too."

"You ready to eat?" he asked Justin.

"I'm always ready to eat, isn't that what you say?"

"Like father, like son."

"We haven't unpacked the kitchen yet."

"No time like the present."

"What about Gus? He's hungry now."

"We'll give him some fruit, that'll hold him over. You cook and I'll put stuff away. You can tell me where," he added since Justin would be the one doing most of the cooking.

So the boys and Beh trooped downstairs and Brian gave Gus an apple cut into slices and sat him on the kitchen island to eat while he went about putting things away. Justin decided to make pasta since it was easy and he could put on the sauce and the rotini and help Brian while it cooked without having to pay any attention to it. Then, with him directing Brian, they emptied all the boxes marked for the kitchen until the space began to take on a lived-in look. There were still many empty cabinets and drawers but, in time, they'd be filled as well. Putting the last of his cookbooks in the kitchen island, Justin leaned back against it and looked around the kitchen, pleased with their work.

"I love this kitchen."

"Good, because it's yours for the next eighty years."

"I wonder why they left behind some of this stuff. I mean, the baking center's not bolted to the wall, they could have just taken it with them."

"Bad memories." Brian looked at Gus' pat on the shoulder. The baby offered him a piece of apple. "Thank you."

Justin went to check on the pasta. "Done."

"Yea!" said Gus and he clapped his hands. He loved spaghetti, even spaghetti that didn't look like spaghetti.

Putting down placemats to protect the wood, they carried their meals to their new table and sat down for the first time around it. The night sky was visible through the windows and door that looked out onto the pergola.

Justin said, "It'll be nice, in the summer, to open the windows and doors and eat with a breeze blowing."

"Bugs getting up your nose," Brian joked.

"That's what those zappers are for."

The wine was delicious and Brian took a moment to savor it, his food cooling on the plate. Gus had tucked in right away as had Justin. "This is nice," he said between sips.

"The wine?"

"Everything," he said with a smile.

Justin returned it. "It is, isn't it?"

"Welcome home," Brian said, lifting his glass for a toast.

"Welcome home."

Gus looked from one of them to the other, then laughed because he was glad to be with them, no matter where they were. He wondered if they were going back to the loft. This place was nice and it had some of Daddy's stuff in it but he wondered where the bed was and the white couch. The television was here and Daddy's clothes but where was Daddy's desk with his computer? He'd seen Daddy unpack the computer and put it where the books were but there was no desk in there. Wanting to clear things up, he asked, "Daddy? Go home?"

"No, you're staying with us tonight," Brian told him.

"No." Daddy didn’t understand. "Go home? Stay here?"

Brian's face brightened. He said gently, "No, we're staying here. This is our new house. We're not going back to the loft. Understand?"

Gus nodded. "Stay here."

"That's right. Where your new bed is and your room."

Gus laughed, he loved his new bed and his room. "Stay here." Then he launched into a story about the race cars in his room and what he'd done all afternoon.

And even though they only understood an occasional word like car or room, the two men sat enrapt by his story and clapped when he was done.

When dinner was over, the three cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher and cut off the lights downstairs and headed upstairs, making sure the alarm was set and everything was in its place.

"We've got to get some furniture in this place," said Brian. "I feel naked."

"Later," teased Justin. "After Mini-Me's gone to sleep."

They ran a bath in the tub in Gus' bathroom and bathed him and put on his pajamas and let him come in their room and watch TV for a while and then he got bored and went and got his cars and rolled them across the floor until he began to stumble each time he went to retrieve a car and they knew he was ready for bed.

Justin tucked him in and read him a story about Pooh and Piglet while Brian made sure the night light was on so that he could find his way to the bathroom if he needed to get up and pee. He also set the intercom on broadcast so that they would hear if anything was wrong during the night. Giving the toddler kisses, they waited until he was asleep before pulling the door to and leaving.

Collapsing on the bed, they decided to forgo bathing themselves. The mattress felt so good to their tired bodies, they didn't think they'd ever move again. Even if it had been lumpy as shit, they probably would have felt the same way: it was heaven just to lie down.

"Who knew moving was so exhausting," said Justin, laying his head on Brian's chest.

"Do we have a list of the stuff we want to get tomorrow?"

"Do it at breakfast."

"So how's school?"

Justin laughed. "It's good. Everything's okay."

"Why'd you laugh?"

"I figured you'd tell me my eyes were beautiful or something and you're asking about school."

"Things have been crazy. I want to make sure you're not falling behind."

"You're a good husband," Justin told him, fingers brushing over his chest.

"And your eyes are beautiful."

A feeling like spring came over Justin but even though the heart was willing, the body was exhausted and he smiled softly and remained supine upon his lover. "First night in our new house."

"Yep."

"Like it?"

"I think so."

"You think?"

"I love it."

For a while neither said anything else and then Brian nudged Justin. "Come on." They got up and undressed, then cut off the lights and the television and returned to bed. Kissed briefly.

"Night."

"Night, Baby." 

He awoke to the sound of crying. "Gus," he said automatically and got up, grabbing his robe as he did and slipped it on. He found the tot sitting up in bed crying. Obviously, he'd awakened and was disoriented by the new room and new surroundings. Brian sat on the edge of the bed and picked him up, held him. "Hey, it's okay. Shhh, it's okay." Gus rubbed his eyes and laid against his daddy. "You all right now?" Gus nodded. "It's your new room, remember?" He nodded again. "Daddy Justin painted the cars on the walls and the airplanes and the rocket ship. See?" He pointed to the ceiling and Gus looked up. Finding Beh, Brian gave the teddy bear to him. "And here's Beh." Now that Gus seemed calm again, he laid him back down and pulled the covers up over him and the leather bear. Knelt by the bed. "You think you can go back to sleep now?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

"You want me to stay here until you fall asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Brian waited.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"Look, cloud," he said, pointing to a cloud.

"That's right."

"Snow."

"Uh-huh. Snow comes from the clouds."

"Clouds," he said drowsily and in a moment he'd fallen asleep again.

Giving him a kiss, Brian left him to dream of clouds. When he returned to his room, Justin was awake.

"Gus okay?"

"Yeah, he was just confused by being in a new place."

As Brian settled in next to him, he said, "Well, now I'm wide awake," and grinned.

Slipping his arm around his lover's slender waist, Brian said, "First time in our new house."

"In our new bed," Justin added.

The bed made nary a sound as they bounced on it, Justin crouched over Brian, impaled on his cock. 

 

He could feel the sun coming through the windows despite the curtains and the shades and decided that he must be genetically predisposed to sense sunlight, kind of like a plant. But light or not, he fully intended to lie in bed until the last possible moment.

Which came sooner than he'd expected.

The door to their room pushed open and he heard, "Daddy!" Gus came running in and bounced up and down next to the bed. Held up his arms to be lifted. "Daddy!"

Brian picked him up and set him down next to him. "What?"

"Bweakfast."

Justin turned over. "Just ten more minutes."

Gus kissed Brian, then crawled over to Justin and smooched him too. "Daddy, pancakes."

"Okay, just give me ten more minutes. Ten minutes?"

"No."

Brian reached for him and pulled him onto his side of the bed. "Come on," he told him, "come watch me take a shower and shave." Gus loved to watch Brian shave and he'd probably want to join him in the shower too. Which he did. Taking off his clothes too, he got in the shower with Brian and danced around in the water while Brian bathed. Then after Brian dried him off, he watched him shave and held out his hands for Brian to put some lather in them and when Brian did, he put some on his cheeks too and used his finger to take it off like he saw Daddy do with the razor. Following Brian into the closet, he watched as his father slipped on a pair of briefs and then a pair of jeans and a black sweater. Afterwards, he and Daddy went to his room and found him a pair of jeans and a sweater to wear as well except that his sweater was orange. By the time they returned, Daddy Justin was up and in the shower. Gus helped Brian fix the bed—mostly by staying out of the way, but he did straighten the lengths of the canopy that hung along the bed posts, playing with the beads on the edge of the cloth and then he sat on the bed and watched TV until Justin finished and they were ready to go downstairs and eat.

Using the simmering plate on the Aga stove, Justin fixed pancakes, two for Gus and three each for he and Brian while Brian fried bacon on the range at the opposite end of the kitchen. Gus went from end to end, eating a banana while the main course cooked. They brewed coffee and made toast using the appliances on the top of the la mattina at the end of one arm of the U of cabinets and countertops that formed the kitchen. There was milk, eggs, butter and juice in the refrigerator under the counter which was also convenient to the baking center and bake ovens. Justin had whipped up the pancakes using ingredients kept in the under the counter refrigerator and on the shelves of the baking center without once having to ask for anything from the Northland at the other end of the kitchen. Conversely, it was nice to have the meats in the refrigerator/freezer which was closer to the grill in the rangetop.

"I like this setup," Justin said.

"I think we need some bar stools for the island," Brian said. "No point in eating breakfast way out there," the family room, "if we can do it in here."

"What about the bar in the family room?"

"If we get some sofas and chairs, then we can wait on that."

Justin reached for the pad of paper he'd been scribbling on. Added bar stools to the list of things they wanted to look for today when they went shopping. "You know, I was looking online…"

"Uh-huh."

"And they have this thing called the Icebox Flipscreen and it's this entertainment center that fits under the kitchen cabinet and it has this screen that flips down. It's a combination TV, DVD and CD player, there's a radio, and you can access the internet using it."

"Really." Brian tried to keep inflection out of his voice. Stepping to the sink, Brian opened the curtains and looked out.

Justin saw that he was probably not going to convince Brian that they needed one this go round so he decided to drop it for now. "What do you think about putting an herb garden out there?"

"Fine with me."

"What do you think about helping me?"

Brian inhaled and exhaled. Punishment for not greenlighting Justin's toy. "Fine."

"You say that with such enthusiasm," teased Justin.

"It's all I have."

"Maybe you'll have more come spring."

After they'd eaten, they ran the dishwasher and went to get on their winter gear. They'd decided to keep their coats and scarves and hats in one of the closets next to the front door. Brian also kept a couple pairs of shoes in there too. It was a lot easier than trekking back upstairs. That was the one drawback to living in a large house, having to plan their routes and make sure that they were placing things where they'd be most useful. They had space to waste but not the energy and humor to go roaming all over for any and everything. 

 

Armed with the list, they went to this upscale furniture store Brian had bought some of his furniture from for the loft all those years ago. Joanie and Justin had found some pieces online and their task was to find something like it locally if possible.

"Don't you think this stuff is kind of expensive?" Justin asked.

"It'll last forever," replied Brian. And to Gus, "Don't touch anything unless Justin or I say so. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, eyes already shining, excited just to be out and about.

To be on the safe side, Brian took hold of one of his hands and held it.

"So what do we want most on this list?" Brian asked.

"The nightstands and some furniture for the family room," replied Justin. "I can wait for everything else."

Beginning at the front, they worked their way through the store discussing different pieces, testing a few out, Gus loving that part. A sales person came over after they'd been in there a couple of minutes and, ascertaining that they just wanted to look on their own, made himself scarce. By the time they got to the back of the showroom, they'd both agreed on five key pieces: two nightstands for the bedroom, a sofa, and two chairs. The nightstands were these leather cubes that would look great with the bed; the sofa was the color of reddish sand with matching pillows and a couple of striped pillows in complimentary colors; and the two chairs had tan leather bottoms and cloth backs, the cloth patterned in rust, burgundy, and tan blocks. Justin was surprised that Brian liked the chairs as they were a little ornate, reminding him of the kinds of chairs English nobility must have used in their castles. He smiled, thinking of Deb sitting in one of them. But they were beautiful and their rounded arms echoed the rounded arms of the sofa. The salesperson was very happy to assist them and opened an account for Brian and arranged for delivery of their furniture Tuesday evening.

So, that was five pieces down and a long list to go.

The next store they visited sold leather furniture as Brian hoped to pick up a leather sectional for the TV viewing area. As is, they got a leather sectional and two leather and rattan armchairs.

"Sweet," declared Justin as they marked three more items off their list.

As Gus was looking a little pooped, Justin suggested that they quit and have lunch. Brian agreed. He was feeling a little empty himself. They stopped in a chain sandwich and bakery place and studied the menu before ordering roasted chicken and red pepper sandwiches with provolone. While Justin waited for their order to come up, Brian and Gus went to get drinks and find a table. The toddler slid into the booth next to his daddy leaving the other side for Justin. When the young man returned with their food, they all dug in, hungrier than they thought even though they'd been out shopping for two and a half hours and it was understandable that they would be. After finishing his sandwich, Brian leaned back and stretched his toes inside his boots. It felt good to take a load off and relax.

They struck out in the showroom they visited next which was disappointing to Brian because he'd had good luck in there in the past. But his tastes had changed or, rather, he now had to consider Justin's tastes as well and the store was a bit too cold for Justin's tastes. So, they moved on.

In the next furniture gallery, they snagged two coffee tables, a game table, and two side tables for the sofa that would sit near the fireplace. All of them were made of mahogany and glowed with a soft beauty that made them almost irresistible to Justin's artistic nature. They also purchased a reddish-tan colored chenille chair that matched the leather sectional perfectly. They still didn't have any lamps or a chest for their room to sit at the foot of the bed and hold their toys.

Going directly to a nearby lighting store, they found two table lamps for the family room and two floor lamps. The table lamps had shades of an almost burnt sienna color with amber beads along the edges and the floor lamps were a lighter sienna color with curved poles making them look like flowers.

Now they had almost everything they really needed.

"I guess we can wait on the toy chest," suggested Justin.

"I don't like the idea of my stuff being packed away in a box in the closet," said Brian but he conceded that fact that they might not find anything today. Putting that on the back burner, they hit an electronics store to look at televisions. They really needed to get something for the family room so that Gus would get used to watching it down there and not in their bedroom. Plus, they wanted to get a stereo system for the lower level as well. In the future, Brian planned on having a whole house audio system installed but that was a little ways down the road. Right now, they wanted to do some basic decorating; in time, they would get to adding the little frills that would make their house even more comfortable.

Fully intending to go in and buy a relatively modest television for now, they found themselves staring at the flat-screen plasma televisions with lust in their eyes. Not that Brian watched television much outside of taking in a show with Justin and Gus but he could easily see them buying the Lord of the Rings trilogy and losing themselves for hours at a time, the action looming large above them.

"But it's ten thousand dollars," Justin said to Brian. "That's a lot of money."

"We're living in an eight hundred thousand dollar house," Brian countered. "Ten thousand's a drop in the bucket."

"We've got the wedding and the mortgage payment is coming up next month and we've bought all this new furniture and—"

Brian kissed him to shut him up. He was well aware of the bills he'd have to attend to when it was time to pay up but for right now all he wanted was to see his home look as fabulous as it could.

"What about the forty-two-inch instead of the fifty-inch?" Justin asked, willing to concede the previous point to Brian.

"What about those eight extra inches?" asked Brian.

"You'll just have to make them up," purred Justin.

Brian grinned and pulled him close and kissed him again. But he said, "I think it's stupid not to get the best you can get, especially if you can afford it," and Justin couldn't argue with that logic.

Having made arrangements for the television to be delivered and installed on Monday evening as well, they left to hit one last store.

It was a furniture store that Brian had done some ad work for in the past. Upscale yet very down-to-earth. The people who ran it knew quality and only featured the best. As he hoped he would, Brian spotted the perfect chest, a stained wicker trunk that matched the bed perfectly. It was actually one of the pieces on Joanie's list.

"Finally," declared Justin. Although they had lots more to buy, they had gotten the basics for their room, enough to keep them comfortable for a while.

Plus, they also picked up a media center to put in the family room next to the television. Since the television would be mounted on the wall, it needed no stand, but they had to have something to store their public-viewing DVDs and videotapes as well as the stereo system when they bought it. Their "For our eyes only" media, they kept upstairs in their armoire.

The only things they hadn't gotten on their list were bar stools but they were all too exhausted to go on and it was getting late. They had to take Gus home. Having brought Beh and his SpongeBob SquarePants backpack with them, they went directly from the last showroom to the Munchers' house. Gus made a fuss but Justin managed to calm him down by telling him he could come and see them next weekend if his mommies agreed.

"You sure?" asked Brian. "That's the weekend before the ceremony."

"We can manage. Besides, we'll have the TV and furniture and stuff, maybe Molly can come over and baby-sit him while we do stuff. My mom's coming over on Sunday afternoon to help make flowers and Joanie's coming over to help and Mel and Lindz and Emmett probably so there'll be lots of people around to keep him occupied. We ought to be able to manage."

"All right," Brian said, "because a promise is a promise." He lifted Gus from his car seat and gave him his backpack and Beh once he was on the ground. The toddler walked ahead of them, looking forward to seeing Mommy and Mama. He did miss them and he had fun with them too, lots of fun, and nobody played Patty Cake or sang better than Mommy and Mama made the best French toast in the world and could do all the voices in Winnie-the-Pooh, even Pooh. But being with Daddy and Daddy Jusin was fun too. He wished they could all be together all the time but Daddy and Daddy had their house and Mommy and Mama had their house and he had rooms in both houses. The thought made him very happy and he jumped up onto the steps and yelled, "Yeah!"

Coming up behind him, Brian and Justin cracked up. Sometimes they really wondered what he thought about. 

 

Brian sat in bed with Justin between his legs, leaning back against him as they watched one of their "For our eyes only" DVDs. Not that they made a habit of watching a lot of porn but Justin did enjoy an occasional erotic feature. It turned him on, watching another couple make love as a prelude to their making love. Sometimes the sound of another couple moaning and sighing made his skin tingle as he moaned and sighed himself. The film had been on for a few minutes and the two men onscreen had progressed to heavy kissing and stroking. Shifting on the bed, Justin signaled to Brian just by his movement that it was time to turn the heat up a bit. Brian had been holding him and rubbing his belly lightly but now he began to run his hands up and down Justin's thighs, still lightly, just the tips of his fingers. Up and down the insides of his thighs and Justin spread his legs even wider, throwing them over Brian's. It felt so good, Brian's hands on him, between his legs, stroking his flesh, his lips on his neck and shoulders, kissing him, kissing his way up his neck to his mouth. He twisted his neck so that they could kiss and turned in Brian's arms. Wrapped arms and legs about him.

"Oh," he gasped as they kissed, as Brian raised him up and licked his nipples, as he laid him down upon his back and licked his way down his chest, down his belly, and back up again, tongue tracing a path over his stomach, between his pecs.

He felt so small, loved the way Brian could pick him up with one arm and hold him as he kissed his nipples, kissed along his ribcage, kissed around his navel, down between his legs. With his lover's arm around his waist, hand in the small of his back, he raised his hips and felt Brian's lips on his cock, brushing over it, teasing him.

Crawling back up Justin's body, leaving no inch of flesh unkissed, unlicked, Brian crouched over him and they kissed deeply, tongues entwining inside warm mouths. He pulled away and Justin raised his legs over Brian's thighs and rubbed his buttocks over the man's groin, then gripped his neck and raised himself up for another kiss that went on for some time. Brian knelt on the bed and Justin climbed up onto his lap and they kissed, nipples rubbing chests, cocks rubbing bellies. Moaning into Brian's mouth, Justin pressed himself against Brian's torso. God, it felt so good. So good…

Sliding Justin off his lap, Brian laid back and his lover rolled over onto him. He raised his left leg between Justin's thighs and the younger man straddled it, working his cock and balls and asshole against it. Grabbing Justin's ass, Brian stroked his buttocks, fingers sliding down the crevice to brush against his hole.

"Mmm," whispered Justin. "Oh…"

Brian's cock was trapped between their bodies and every time Justin moved, he felt it throb. Pulling Justin over onto him, he rubbed his dick against Justin's, the younger man's balls pressing back against Brian's. Their cocks strained against one another and twitched, drooling precum.

And they kissed, kissed until saliva smeared their faces, until it streaked their skin where they kissed nipples and chests, bellies, thighs, cocks. Parting Justin's legs, Brian licked his cock from base to tip, then licked his balls, the strip of flesh between his balls and his hole. He turned Justin over and kissed his shoulders, teased the area between his shoulder blades, then followed the path of his spine until he reached the tops of Justin's buttocks. He licked between them, moving closer and closer to his hole, pulling away at the last moment to kiss his cheeks, to suck on his flesh, to leave his mark.

Rising up, Justin pushed Brian back and caught hold of his cock, began sucking him. The older man caught his breath as his lover went down on him, coaxing his cock to grow harder and harder. When Justin finished with him, his dick was rock hard and he thought his erection would never subside.

Justin spread lube along the length of Brian's shaft, then turned on his side. Reached for the cinnamon-colored towel on the nightstand and spread it in front of him. Brian wrapped his arms around his torso and held him, kissing his neck and jaw, rubbing his dick between his buttocks, waiting until Justin deemed it time to be entered.

He was so hot, so hard, so hungry for Brian's cock. He raised his left leg and eased it back over Brian's. Now, the motion said. And Brian spread his cheeks and pushed his dick inside.

"Yes," he whispered. Cupping his balls, he gently stroked himself as Brian slowly fucked him. As they fucked, they kissed, bodies contorted so that lips could reach lips, and tongues could touch as Brian's cock slid in and out of Justin's ass with growing ease. At first Justin was content with their leisurely fucking but he grew more impatient as his cock hardened and he moved closer to his orgasm. "Do it," he moaned. "Do it." Those were the only words he could utter but Brian understood. He moved Justin onto his belly and supported himself on his arms, began thrusting harder, harder, faster, jerking against him, stabbing him with his cock. The towel bunched up beneath them, wet with their sweat, dotted with precum. Justin cried out and began panting. "Oh, oh. Oh. Oh," he groaned and he buried his face in the pillow and uttered a throaty cry, tightening around Brian. Cum spread beneath him, trapped in the fibers of the towel.

As Justin's hole went into spasms around his cock, Brian opened his mouth around his lover's neck and sucked him until he came.

Still joined, they rolled over onto their sides and Brian gently stroked Justin's cock. 

 

Tired but contented, Brian walked into his office, sat down, and put up his feet. Cynthia hadn't been at her desk which meant she was probably off getting coffee or something. He supposed they could have put a coffee maker in his office like the other executives did but he was trying to cut back. Speaking of cutting back, he hadn't had a cigarette all weekend, too busy working and shopping. There was a pack in the drawer; he took one out and found his lighter. That first puff was going to be heaven... He inhaled the smoke and coughed. "Fuck." That hadn't happened before. He put out the cigarette and waved the air in front of his face. Jesus. No cigarettes? It had finally happened, he'd given up most of his vices and become a respectable person.

Cynthia came in with his coffee and found him sitting at his desk in almost a stupor. "What's up, Boss?"

"I'm respectable," he said.

"You're also going to be late for your meeting if you don't hurry up." She handed him his coffee and the relevant folder of notes and files.

All during his meeting with Darren Johnson, he barely paid attention to what Darren was saying, partly because it wasn't necessary, he'd already decided that Johnson needed divine intervention to save the campaign and was prepared to give him some as long as it didn't cost him any late nights. He and Justin had a lot to do between now and the wedding and after the wedding, even though they weren't going anywhere, he fully intended to take at least three or four days from work for a homebound honeymoon. But, mostly, he was distracted by thoughts of his apparent fall from vicedom.

"Brian?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"So? What do you want to do?"

That was the question.

Later, after having trashed Darren's proposal and given the man strict orders as to how to save the campaign, he returned to his office in an introspective mood. Cynthia handed him his messages as he passed her and he took them without looking at them. Again, he sat in his chair and pondered his state of affairs and felt a foolish urge begin to take hold of him. Cutting on his computer, he logged into his personal email account and sent a note to his favorite boy toy: Bountiful Bottom.

_BB,  
How about a play date at Babylon? I'd love to see you shake your bountiful booty._

_B_

It took almost a half hour for a response to come.

_B,_

_You're on._

_BB_

Sitting back in his chair, he smiled. Things were definitely looking up for the former king of vice. 

Things didn't exactly go smoothly. First, he had to convince Justin to wear something even the least bit sleazy. "Baby, what's the point of going to a club if you're going to wear your chinos? We can stay home and dance by ourselves if you're gonna play the happy homemaker." Which did not go over well with his groom-to-be. But, at last, Brian got Justin to put on a pair of skintight jeans and his tight, white fcuk spandex tee. He wore his favorite pair of leather low-rider pants and a virtually see-through black top that left nothing to the imagination.

"We look like call boys," complained Justin.

"Exactly the point. You need a pair of leather pants," he said. "Gotta do something about that."

With his less-than-thrilled partner in tow, Brian swaggered into Babylon, certain to draw the attention of most of the guys in the place. He wasn't disappointed. Despite being in physical contact with Justin, some guy walked up and wanted to dance with him so he let Justin go and followed the man onto the dance floor where they put on a show for at least ten minutes, the guy doing everything short of blowing him to get him excited and interested in a closer relationship in the backroom. Brian wouldn’t let the guy kiss him but he didn't dissuade him from trying his best. In the end though, he went back to find Justin at the bar with the guys. They'd spotted him pouting and had set about cheering him up. When Brian walked up, they were having a drink and talking about… the wedding.

"Oh, no," he said, and he grabbed Justin. "No talking about the wedding or the house. Come on, let's get some people hot and bothered."

"What about your partner?" Justin asked, meaning the guy he'd danced with.

Brian held up his hand and spread his thumb and forefinger about five inches apart. "Too small."

Laughing, despite being a little pissed with him, Justin let Brian pull him onto the dance floor where they held court for three or four songs, kicking it up notch by notch until Justin was ready to come out of his clothes and fuck right there on the floor. Brian pulled off Justin's shirt and his own and they danced topless, sweat glistening on their torsos, until thirst forced them to take a break.

"Two Jim Beams," Brian said. "Doubles."

"First strong drink you've had in a long time," Justin remarked.

"I can handle it."

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He picked up his drink. "I just want to have some fun tonight, maybe go home loaded, fall asleep, and get up tomorrow with a little hangover just for old time's sake." He downed his drink and signaled for another.

Sipping his more cautiously, Justin said, "Well, I think you're working on a huge hangover."

"Good," replied Brian and he waved to Mikey who was dancing with Jeff. Michael motioned for him to join them so he did, leaving Justin at the bar once more. But not for long as Emmett came back from dancing with some will-o-wisp in the night and wanted a more substantial partner.

"Come on, sugar, let's dance!"

Two hours later, after four double Jim Beams and a number of beers, Brian was less than steady on his feet. Justin had wisely stopped at two Beams and three beers but his head was feeling a little tight as well. As in the old days, Michael drove them home with Jeff following behind them. Assured that they'd made it inside, he and Jeff took off.

They crawled upstairs and fell onto the bed, too tired to undress but eventually their club clothes began to feel constraining and they had to come out of them.

Pissing for what seemed like an eternity, Brian flushed the toilet and staggered back to the bed. Crawled in and shut his eyes. Ah, bliss. 

 

Justin glared at Brian from across the table. "I hope you're happy." He'd awakened that morning with the urge to throw up immediately. Which he'd done after just making it to the bathroom.

Wincing from the light, Brian mumbled, "Ecstatic." He wondered if anyone would notice if he wore his sunglasses all day today. 

 

They had just enough time to eat before the first of the delivery vans appeared. For the next hour and a half the house was a flurry of activity as pair after pair of delivery men traipsed into the house bearing sofas and chairs, tables and lamps. The guys from the electronics store arrived with the flat screen television and in no time had it mounted on the wall and connected to the digital cable box and DVD/VCR which they'd placed inside the entertainment center to the left of the television.

When all of the delivery men and installation guys had left, they arranged the furniture until it was the way they wanted, then stood and surveyed the family room with pleasure. It was exactly how they had imagined, masculine yet comfortable and inviting. Now all it lacked was bar stools but they were in no rush. Their friends would love it just as it was, just as much as they would.

"Let's have dinner over here on Saturday night," Justin suggested.

"Works for me."

"You sure you don’t want to go out and paint the town red?"

Brian nudged him and said, "I think I'll build a fire instead."

Curled up on the sofa with Brian, Justin said, "We still need to get some rugs."

"This Friday. We'll go out and see what we can find."

The fire crackling behind glass doors, Justin couldn't imagine being happier anywhere else. "I love this place," he said.

Brian looked down at his partner and squeezed him. He loved it too.

 

 

The students piled into Gus' room once more to finish the mural on the walls. Justin's friends had been amazed at the change in the house in just a few short days.

"I can't believe how fabulous it looks already," Rennie said as she got up on the ladder again to complete the ceiling.

"It'll look even better when we get some rugs and vases and stuff. It'll still a little stark," Justin confessed.

Xavier said, "You should put up a notice at school. Lotta kids doing pottery and glasswork, might be able to find something nice."

"Hey," said Rennie, "what about the sculpture Xavier gave you for Christmas last year?"

Justin felt his chest tighten. He'd never told Xavier what had happened to the piece and he didn't want to talk about it now. "That's just once piece," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but it'd help. Where do you think you'll put it?"

But Xavier had seen Justin's reaction even if Justin hadn't intended him to and he said, "Stop hounding the man and work, woman." _I wonder what that means?_ he asked himself and resolved to ask Justin if they ever got a moment alone.

Which came when Rennie announced that she wanted to walk around the back yard and get some air, leaving the guys to clean out the brushes and talk.

"So where are you going to put the piece?" Xavier asked.

"Xavier…" Justin began. He didn't know how to say it, how to tell Xavier that his work had been sacrificed so that he might be free, so that Brian could live, so that they could save their love, their lives.

"You don't have it anymore, do you?" Justin shook his head sadly. "What happened?" he asked softly. He'd put his heart and soul into that piece and to find out that it was gone, it made him want to yell but he knew Justin, knew that he wouldn't have done anything rash, not unless he'd been pushed to it.

"I had to do it. Me and Brian… things were really crazy, Xavier. I thought I was going to lose him. I almost did."

Risking a touch, Xavier brushed his fingers over Justin's hand. "I know, J."

Justin shut his eyes. He would never forget that day for as long as he lived. "I would have done anything to keep him safe."

"What did you do with it?"

"We took a bunch of stuff to his father's grave and we left it there." He watched Xavier for a reaction, there was none. "Maybe someone came and took all of it away."

"Maybe."

"I'm sorry."

Xavier shrugged it off. "I know he comes first. I know what he means to you. You did what you had to do." His work… gone. Well… he'd make other pieces. He'd make pieces for Trey and Nana Rose and Rennie and maybe even for Brian and Justin. Turning slightly away, he sniffed and tried to smile.

Just then, before Justin could make an overture towards Xavier, Rennie came running into the room. "Hey, guys, it's snowing again."

So they walked to the back of the room and watched the snow fall, three friends, reading their futures in the swirling flakes. 

 

Deciding to hang Brian's painting of the naked guy outside their suite, they had to find places for the portraits Justin had done of Brian and for the Turner prints Sebastian had given them. The tea service had a place of honor on top of the sideboard and the pictures of Sebastian and James would go on the mantelpiece with their other pictures of family and friends just as soon as they decided which mantelpiece to put them on: they had three.

"Well," Justin suggested, "I think they should go out in the reception hall," they being the Turner prints, "but they don't exactly fit our wedding theme. Maybe we can put them up after the wedding."

"So what the fuck are we going to put in the hallways?" asked Brian who thought the Turner prints would be perfect for the gallery.

"I've got plenty of friends who make lots of art," he replied. "We won't have any problems filling up the white spaces." Not that any of the walls in the house were really white. Instead, they spanned the spectrum from oyster to honey. He surveyed the long hallway on the first floor. "It'll be so cool, having our own home gallery. Maybe we could have cocktail parties and show the art, like Peggy Guggenheim used to do. You could become an art broker."

"I don't know shit about art," said Brian.

"But you know about selling stuff and you're smart and witty and you throw great parties. We could put out a little wine and cheese and show off the artwork, it'd practically sell itself."

Brian thought about it, saw them schmoozing with important people in the area, talking about art, it couldn't hurt. "Works for me," he said.

Throwing his arms around Brian's neck, Justin asked, "Have I told you I loved you today?"

"Mmm, maybe."

"Then I'll tell you again, just to make sure." He kissed Brian soundly. "I love you, Pookie."

"Love you too, Baby."

Justin parted from him and crooked his finger. Eyebrow raised, Brian followed. 

 

There was a discount rug warehouse on the edge of town that sold almost every kind of rug known to man from high end to bargain basement and walking into it, Brian foresaw hours of browsing and comparing ahead of them and he was right. The problem was there were too many rugs and they had too many spaces to buy for and coordinate. In the family room alone there were three distinct spaces: the dining table area, the fireplace area, and the home theatre area so not only did the rugs have to coordinate with the furniture in those areas, they needed to coordinate with each other and they had no intention of just buying three identical rugs. Then they needed at least three rugs for their room: by the bed, by the fireplace, and by the pergola and the same problem applied. The rest of the rooms they would worry about later but they did need something by the front and back doors, both inside and out, and a couple of runners for the kitchen.

When they were done shopping, they'd found everything they were looking for and had the guys load them up in the back of the Cherokee along with non-slip pads for all of the rugs and a half dozen throw pillows they'd picked up for good measure. They had a busy Saturday morning ahead of them.

Coming home (after a stop to pick up security gates for the stairs) and unloading the rugs, they took a breather by the fireplace before heading into the kitchen to fix dinner.

Steak and potatoes in front of them, they sat at the table and talked about their plans for the house once the wedding was over and things settled down a little as if they ever settled down around them.

"I don't know what I'd do if things were actually peaceful," said Justin.

"Me neither," Brian agreed. "So when is the mosaic table coming?"

"Should have come already. I'll check tomorrow," he said. Of course, spring was weeks away and they wouldn't be able to use it until then but still, it should have come days ago.

"The mural looks great," Brian said. He'd peeked in Gus' bedroom on his way to change. "Maybe you guys should do one for the guest bedroom too."

"Like what?"

"Maybe the Tuscan countryside," Brian suggested.

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about art?"

"I know what I like," he answered. 

 

That night as Brian prepared for bed, he gazed out of the back windows at the pergola and said, "We need some fucking furniture up here. I feel like I'm living in a goddamn warehouse," he complained.

"Come to bed, Pookie," Justin told him and held open the covers for him. Brian lowered the shades on the window, then slipped into bed and let himself be enveloped in Justin's arms. "It'll be perfect. It just takes time," he said. Something he hoped they had plenty of. Feeling Brian settle down, he closed his eyes and slept. 

 

In the morning, they got up and went to work. The gang would be over that evening around six for dinner and they needed to put down the rugs, plan tonight's menu, and pick up some groceries and wine. Plus, Justin wanted to make a special stop to get something he'd seen earlier in the week. For Gus.

Making his stop first, he went into the shop and showed Brian what he wanted. It was a red and yellow plastic easel for kids.

"For the studio. To keep Gus occupied while I work."

"I think that is a most excellent idea," said Brian.

"Yeah, it just means he'll be out of your hair."

But Brian had been thinking about getting Gus a computer workstation that came equipped with a computer for little people. That way Gus could sit with him while he worked in his study and not be bored to death. But he figured he'd wait until his birthday and get it so Mel and Lindsay wouldn't scream that he was spoiling Gus. Like God forbid if he spoiled his own kid just a little. Granted they had spent a lot on his room too, so it was a good thing to maybe wait a while before giving him anything else. Still, Gus would look mighty cute sitting at his workstation. Brian smiled and decided to keep his options open.

Having gotten brisket for dinner, a Chocolate Kahlua cake from the bakery for dessert, and three bottles of wine, the men headed home and began preparing for their guests. It was the first time they would entertain in their new home and despite it only being their friends and family, they were a little nervous, wanting everything to be just right.

One problem was that even though they'd gotten extra chairs for the dining table, there were still only twelve chairs and fourteen people. So they dragged the two leather and cloth armchairs over and set one at each end where they would sit as hosts. Unfortunately, it would be a tight fit around the table as some had to straddle legs and sit arm and arm with the others. What they needed was a table for Gus and Molly that would sit near the main table.

"Listen," Brian said, "how about Gus and Molly sitting on the sectional and watching TV instead of sitting at the table? There's no fucking room."

"Molly wouldn't mind and I don't think Gus would either," Justin replied from the kitchen.

"I just hope nobody has to get up, we're gonna be packed like sardines at the table."

Once the problem of the seating arrangements was settled, Brian checked the downstairs bathroom to make sure it had clean towels, toilet paper, and soap. Then he tested each of the rugs again to make sure they wouldn't slip. That done, he set the table, spreading the tablecloth first, then using most of the placemats Joanie had made, and putting out their everyday water glasses and wine goblets. They'd decided to use the amber-hued plates they'd bought in Italy as they were warmer-colored than the black plates they tended to use everyday and went with their new décor. Pretty soon they'd have fine china and stemware and silverware for special occasions. Joanie had also made matching napkins for the placemats which made the table settings look tasteful and elegant. They'd picked up blue glass napkin rings in Venice which they only now had found an opportunity to use. The burnt sienna color of the placemats and napkins contrasted nicely with the blue glass bead flowers of the napkin rings and the blue rug they'd bought for the dining area, the entire arrangement echoing the colors of the kitchen and providing a visual link between the two spaces.

He'd decanted the red wine to let it breathe and the white wine was chilling in the wine and beverage center along with about a dozen cans of soda. There were more cans in the refrigerator.

This was good practice for next week—when they'd host the rehearsal dinner at the house—and their chance to work out any kinks in the system.

One thing they discovered was that as close as the family room was to the kitchen—they were basically the same space—it was still a haul to carry heavy serving platters to the table.

"What the fuck are we gonna do when we have to serve people in the dining room?" asked Brian.

"Well, I guess we can buy a serving cart."

"The food'll get cold by the time we get there."

"Maybe we can turn the closet closest to the dining room into a butler's pantry," Justin suggested. "Put a microwave in there and maybe a mini fridge."

"Possible," said Brian, not committing to anything more than that.

While Justin checked on the brisket, Brian went through their video collection to find something that would keep both Molly and Gus entertained and not drive the adults crazy. They had bought some videos for Gus to watch when he visited but he seemed more interested in SpongeBob and The PowerPuff Girls than in any movie they'd purchased. Still, maybe he'd watch something if Molly did.

"What's Molly like?" Brian asked.

"What do you mean what's she like?"

"Movies?" It was hard to carry on a conversation in different rooms.

"She likes Toy Story."

That was one of the films they'd bought. Taking it out, he put it in the DVD player and hoped it would keep Gus quiet for at least a half hour or so. That was about the limit of the toddler's attention span these days before something else caught his eye and he was off. Of course, he was also enamored of the water fountain so he'd probably spend a lot of time there too. As long as he stayed in sight and out of trouble, he could knock himself out.

Joining Justin in the kitchen, Brian watched him toss the salad and shake together a bottle of vinaigrette. "Need any help?"

Shook his head. "Almost done. The brisket's finished."

"I smelled it."

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

"You want something now?"

"I'll last," he assured his lover but he did take a bit of lettuce and a cherry tomato just to be safe. Checked Justin's watch. "They'll be here soon."

Sure enough, within minutes, he heard the first of the cars arrive. Taking a deep breath, they went out to greet their guests.

"We were going to use the side door," Emmett explained, "but we didn't want to look like the help."

Joanie came bearing gifts: curtains for the family room which she put up with Jennifer's help once she arrived.

"These match perfectly," Justin said. She'd come over during the week after they'd gotten the furniture but before they'd purchased the rugs, yet the curtains flawlessly complimented all the colors.

"You can't go wrong with sand," she replied.

"You mean beige?" asked Debbie.

And Joanie clarified for her once more, "Sand."

"Sand," said Debbie, looking around to check with Vic.

"Sand," he declared and went to snag another hors d'oeuvres from the tray on the coffee table by the fireplace. Brian was there replenishing the supply and he clapped him on the shoulder as he straightened up. "Everything is wonderful."

"Thanks, Vic."

"I knew you had it in you," he told him and Brian swallowed around a lump in his throat.

"You were the only one then," he said but then he and Justin happened to glance at one another from across the room and the younger man smiled.

"No," said Vic, "I wasn't."

Gus and the Munchers ("Sounds like a new kids show, like Josie and the Pussycats or Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels," quipped Ted.) arrived like the North Wind, with a lot of fuss and noise. The toddler had been quite put out by the fact that he hadn't come over on Friday and had to wait all day Saturday before he could come see his daddies. Even the promise that he could spend Saturday and Sunday night with them hadn't assuaged his anger. It was only when he actually saw Brian and Justin in the house that he believed his mommies and put aside his hurt feelings. Having met them at the door, Brian carried Gus and his stuff to the family room where everyone called out to him and he waved and laughed and, spotting Molly, wanted to be put down so they could play. Brian offered to put on their movie but Molly told him that they'd wait until dinner to watch it.

Now that everyone had arrived, Justin gave them another fifteen minutes or so before he and Brian herded them into the kitchen to fix their plates, the food arrayed on the island buffet style. Then they all trooped back to the family room and arranged themselves around the table, Gus and Molly gleefully taking their places on the sectional in front of the television while Brian started their film.

"It's like being at the movies," Molly said with awe in her voice.

"Yeah," Michael agreed. He could just see them watching Batman or The Crow on that thing. Totally awesome.

Jeff patted him on the arm. "Down, boy."

"Why don't you own one of those?" Michael asked.

"Because I don't own the station, I just work there," he clarified. "But," he added, "if I go national, I just might be able to afford it."

"The network guys are interested in you?" Brian asked.

"Had a couple of feelers."

Michael looked surprised. "You never said anything."

Eyes glanced away, wondering if there would be a scene.

"Didn't want to jinx it. Actually, I was going to tell you tonight; I've got a meeting in New York on Friday."

"You'll be back in time for the wedding, won't you?" asked Justin.

"Maybe. Depends on their itinerary."

Having watched Michael go through one painful breakup due to relocation, Deb asked, "Would you have to move?"

Jeff looked as if he didn't want to answer that question. "I might. Depends on where they think I'm needed. They might just decide to leave me where I am but there are bigger markets than Pittsburgh."

"But you could still live in Pitts and fly to where the stories are," suggested Em. "Right?"

"Unless they decide to send you to Europe or other places east of the Atlantic or west of the Pacific," joked Ted. "Then the commute might be a bit of a problem."

"They wouldn't do that, would they?" asked Michael and Jeff paused.

"Actually, they might."

"They just can't send you someplace you don't want to go."

"No," Jeff agreed, "they can't."

As the implications of his words sank in, everyone went back to concentrating on their meals and no one said anything for a while. Then Gus and Molly broke the silence singing along with the film. Mostly they could hear Molly but every now and again Gus would break through with a clear word amongst the garbling sounds he made.

_"Strange things are happening to me_  
Strange things  
Strange things are happening to me  
Ain't no doubt about it 

_Strange things are happening to me_  
Strange things  
Strange things are happening to me 

_Strange things  
Strange things"_

By dessert, the strange feeling that had descended upon the group had almost dissipated. Only a trace of malaise still clung to Michael and Jeff but that was to be expected. Still, they managed to laugh with the others and evening passed much too quickly for them all.

Toy Story had long gone off and Molly and Gus had gone upstairs to play in his room. They'd been gone about forty minutes when Jennifer decided that it was time to go home and called them. They arrived, hand in hand, Molly having guided the little one down the stairs and Gus looked like he was in love. When he found out that Molly had to go, he fussed, then asked to be picked up so he could hug her. "Bye-bye."

Deciding to leave along with Jennifer, Joanie kissed her son and grandson, her soon-to-be son-in-law, and wished everyone else a good night.

Vic and Deb weren't far behind them, Vic needing to take his meds soon and not having brought them with him because there were just too many. So they thanked their hosts and made their way home as well.

The girls weren't far behind them, wanting to rest up since they were coming back tomorrow to help with the flowers. Gus waved good-bye to them, holding on to Brian's pants' leg for good measure to make sure he was staying the night.

Although normally the guys would have stayed on after everyone else had gone, none of them had completely forgotten that Michael and Jeff had issues to discuss, so Emmett and Ted had a last drink and followed the two lovers out to the cars, Emmett saying he'd catch a ride with Mel and Lindsay tomorrow to help with the decorations for the wedding.

They were all alone. The kitchen was in a state of disarray and the family room wasn't in much better shape. But cleaning up was a routine they'd perfected in the loft so they went into high gear and in no time had everything looking spotless again. All the dishes were loaded and the cycle started and they were off to bed.

Putting the security gates in place, they bathed Gus. He remained in a playful mood despite the late hour and splashed them many times before Brian gave him the eye and he calmed down. Wisely, Brian had changed before attempting to bath him but he still didn't want to have to mop the floor when they were done.

Gus hopped around wearing his bathrobe while they cleaned up and then, with his pajamas on, followed them into their room, not wanting to go to sleep just yet. Beh in his arms, he went on a tour of their room, looking through Brian's study, which remained empty, walking through the closet and bathroom and back out into the sitting room. Justin was a little anxious about him wandering around the top floor but Brian convinced him that Gus wouldn't be able to get past the security gates so his ability to get into trouble had been seriously curtailed. Still, they could hear him wandering around and singing to Beh for a few minutes, the sound fading and then rising as he moved away from and back closer to their room. Finally, he returned to their bedroom and leaned against the bed. Laid his head upon it. Brian looked down.

"Sleepy?"

"Yeah," he replied.

Getting down, he picked him up and carried him to his room. Tucked him in and kissed him goodnight.

"Daddy," he said softly.

"What?"

"Luv you."

"I love you too, Sonny Boy. Nite."

"Nite nite."

Waiting until he was fast asleep, Brian returned to bed where Justin waited for him. Life was good. 

 

Sunday he wondered how he could ever be so naïve as to think life could be anything but chaotic.

Gus woke up raring to go at six a.m. and would not go back to sleep so they had to get up and trudge downstairs and fix breakfast for him and hope that emergency infusions of caffeine would do the trick and jumpstart their hearts and brains. Brian felt that the method was only partially successful and he also felt that being forced to watch brightly colored cartoons on a fifty-inch television was a torture only the cruelest imp in hell could have devised.

"Told you to get the forty-two-inch one," Justin grumbled. Even he was unable to shake the exhaustion and he felt as if he were inside someone else's body and couldn't get it to cooperate.

As soon as he was finished eating, Gus ran over to the television and began dancing as Shaggy and Scooby tried to outrun a wax monster. Pretty Mary Sunlite was playing and Gus loved it.

_"Pretty Mary Sunlite, she's all right with me_  
Pretty Mary Sunlite, she's everything I need  
Some people sit around and watch the world go by  
They don't know the fun they're missing…" 

Covering his eyes, Brian sighed. Gus was utterly tasteless.

The toddler laughed as Fred dumped wax not only on the Phantom but also on Shaggy and Scooby.

Justin snorted. "It is kinda funny."

"Better than that Freddie Prinze Jr. and Buffy monstrosity."

"Can you believe they're married?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"Gonna happen."

By the time Joanie, Jenn and Molly arrived, Gus had calmed down a little but he was still hyperactive as far as Brian was concerned. Finally, Justin having shown him his new easel, he stood out in the studio painting while Justin got the flowers ready for his helpers. He had some ideas about how he wanted each corsage to look and each set of boutonnieres. Using white rose buds and navy blue and silver filler flowers, his and Brian's would be the most elaborate, followed by Mikey's, and then the guys' and Vic's. The corsages would feature a large opened white rose. Instead of a corsage, Daphne would have jeweled pins and silk flowers freely arranged in her hair. There would be a headband for Molly and a tiny white rosebud with a silver ribbon tied around it for Gus. Each of the tables needed a centerpiece and their table would have a centerpiece as well as a garland. Plus, they wanted to put a garland around the French doors leading to the studio and they needed decorations for the cake and champagne tables. Joanie thought wreaths for the front doors would be nice and Jenn suggested putting something around the fountain or maybe floating lit votives in it or maybe both. Which meant they had a lot of work ahead of them.

Mel and Lindz and Emmett arrived soon after and they settled in the family room with their individual assignments. Since he wasn't an arts and crafts kind of person, Brian was charged with keeping Gus occupied. Which he did. They went upstairs and played in Gus' room and Gus watched him rearrange his clothes in the closet and they watched TV and at the end of an hour, they were both bored and went down to see how the flower making was going.

Justin was not having fun. Not only did he have no prior knowledge of how to arrange flowers but he seemed to be all thumbs. The others picked up pretty quickly how to do it from the instructions Joanie had printed off the web and from the books she'd gotten from the crafts store but he couldn't get it no matter how hard he tried.

"Maybe you're trying too hard," Jenn suggested. "Why don't you relax a little?"

"Mom, the wedding's next Saturday. I don't have time to relax."

Having exchanged glances and made a silent pact not to say anything else, the rest of the group continued with their work, hoping Justin would relax in spite of his protestations.

And then Brian and Gus came down. Gus went to his mommies to see what they were doing and Brian made a beeline for Justin. "What's that?"

"A boutonniere," he replied tightly and Brian failed to hear the note of warning in his voice. Lindz looked up and was about to speak when Brian beat her to it.

"Is it supposed to look like that?"

Justin stood and walked away.

Lindz went over to him and hit him on the arm. Pointed towards the studio. With a sigh, Brian followed him. Found him sitting at his drafting table, obviously fuming. "Sorry, Baby."

"Leave me alone."

"Justin—"

"I said leave me alone."

"But I—"

"I accept your apology, now just go. I want to be alone."

Brian made a face, then walked out of the studio and sat down on the floor by the door. Waited. In a few moments Justin came towards him.

"What are you doing? I said I wanted to be alone."

"Fine. You stay in there."

"I want to be alone."

"And I want to be near you." They locked gazes and then he raised his hand. Justin took it and sat down next to him. "I'm sorry."

"Guess there are some things that even I can't do."

Brian looked incredulous. "You? Wonder Twink?"

"I am not a twink. I'm twenty-years-old."

"Uh-huh. Twenty, twink. You do the math."

Justin pushed him with his shoulder. "I wanted to do this."

"You can. You're just trying too hard. Leave it alone for a while and then go back to it. That's what I do when I'm stuck."

"You're probably right."

"I know I’m right. Come on, let's go for a walk."

"Where?"

"Around the neighborhood. I haven't met any of our neighbors. Maybe some will be out and we can get acquainted." He grinned.

"Are we going to get in trouble?"

"I certainly hope so, I'm bored."

Putting on their jackets and shoes, the two men tried to sneak away before Gus noticed they were leaving but he spotted them at the last moment and demanded to be taken with them. Bundling him up, they strolled down the driveway and out onto the sidewalk.

"Right or left?" asked Brian.

"Right. Rachel, the woman I met that day, she lives in the English Tudor down there."

So they went right and sauntered down the street, checking out the houses they could see from the sidewalk. A lot of homes had privacy hedges or fences like their house but a few were visible from the road and they appraised them and decided that their house was, by far, the best.

Unfortuantely, none of their neighbors were out and about. The street was deserted. It was cold. So cold, in fact, that they turned around and headed back themselves. Maybe when it was warmer their neighbors would emerge from their cocoons.

"We could have an open house," Justin suggested. "Invite everyone in the neighborhood."

"Possibility."

Used to Brian's noncommittal answers, Justin started to plan for it in his mind.

Used to Justin taking his noncommittal answers as affirmatives, Brian smiled and wondered what their open house would look like.

The break seemed to have done Justin some good. He was able to concentrate and in less than half an hour had produced a beautiful corsage. Brian picked it up and said, "I want this one."

Curious but not questioning him, Justin let him take it. Maybe Brian was making a wedding memory book.

Justin and Emmett worked on the garland for the main table and when they were finished with the six-foot piece, Em declared it to be a masterpiece. "It's fabulous!"

The women agreed and handed them the materials for the garland to go around the French doors to the studio. "I think you should add some lights to this one," Joanie suggested. "It'll look beautiful at night."

"What about the lights for the ceiling?" asked Justin.

"Brian and the boys can put those up Friday afternoon."

"Brian?" Justin called.

"Yeah."

"Are you taking Friday off?"

"I told Cynthia I wasn't coming in. Why?"

"Just checking."

With Brian doing KP duty, the workers stopped around one to see what he'd fixed for them. Grilling four flank steaks, he brushed them with molasses, honey, cracked peppercorns and cayenne pepper, let them rest, then sliced them and made a salad with a vinaigrette of lime juice, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, mustard, and olive oil.

Even Mel was impressed. "Brian Kinney, cooking. Will miracles never cease?"

He smiled broadly. "Nope. I'm getting married next weekend."

"That should qualify you for sainthood."

"Saint Brian, patron saint of orgasms?" Em suggested.

"An orgasm a day keeps the grumpies away," said Brian.

"Brian!" scolded Joanie.

"They started it."

"But they're not Catholic." He rolled his eyes. "I saw that, young man. You keep it up and I'll send you to your room."

"Yes, ma'am."

In the afternoon, they finished the flowers on the list and set them out in the livingroom to make sure they had everything. After determining that they had, Justin put the individual pieces in Ziploc bags, labeled them, and then stored the bags in a box marked "Wedding Flowers". 

 

"Hey, Boss, here it is," said Cynthia, bringing him the list of wedding guests and their meal preferences.

He glanced at it. "You couldn't reach Kenneth?"

"I reached him. See? There's an x by his name. He's not coming."

Left alone with the sheet of paper, Brian debated taking action, deciding not to call and then changing his mind. Reaching Kenneth's administrative assistant, he waited, wondering if Kenneth would try and duck him. After a few moments, he was transferred and Harris spoke.

"Brian? What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me why you're not coming to the wedding." Although he knew.

"Business. Something sudden. I'm sorry. I would have liked to have come."

"Yeah, well, that's the breaks, I guess."

"But, most importantly, I got you a gift. Should arrive Saturday morning."

"Thanks." He couldn’t work up any enthusiasm, his disappointment was so great.

Kenneth must have heard it in his voice. "Brian—"

"I won't keep you from your work." He hung up before Kenneth could say anything else. So it had come to this, that Kenneth was avoiding him. He didn't buy the excuse that something had come up at the last minute although it was possible. It's just that it was too convenient and something about Kenneth's tone rang false.

The phone buzzed. "Yeah."

"Boss, it's Kenneth Harris."

He started to instruct her to tell him he was out but didn't. He waited for Kenneth to come on the line. "Yeah?"

"You were a little abrupt."

"I figured you were busy. Maybe dealing with a crisis. Sudden business and all."

There was no way Kenneth could miss the accusation in his voice. "Brian…"

"If you didn't want to come, why not say it?"

"I do want to come."

"Then what's with the bullshit excuse?"

"I don't think Justin would appreciate me being there."

"He agreed to invite you." Lying but what did it matter? Justin hadn't forced him to retract the invitation.

But Kenneth didn't buy it. "That true?"

"He understands why I invited you. He knows that we're friends."

"I don't want to cause any friction between the two of you."

"We generate enough heat all on our own," joked Brian.

Kenneth laughed. "God, I do love you." He paused. Said quietly, "You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Brian replied just as quietly. But I'm not free, he added silently.

"Worse, I'm in love with you."

"Kenneth—"

"Let me say it even if you can't." A moment of silence. "I love you."

Knowing how hard it was for Kenneth to admit his love, Brian said nothing. What good did it do Kenneth to love him when there was no chance of him returning that love? It was hopeless and yet he understood what it meant to be hopelessly in love, the way he had loved Cam. Loving Justin gave him hope, was hopeful and therein lay all the difference and the reason why he and Justin were marrying and he and Cam had fallen apart. Yet, for all of the happiness he felt now, there had been times when he'd felt just as desperate as Kenneth must be feeling now. All he could say was, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not. I'm not ashamed of loving you." He chuckled. "Actually, I am sorry. Sorry I didn't come along sooner."

He had to try one last time. "Come to the wedding." Maybe they could be friends the way they'd planned, maybe—

"I don't know if I can. I don't think I can watch you marry someone else."

Then it was time to end it. "I guess… I should let you go." His choice of words wasn't accidental. If Kenneth needed to be released, then he'd do it. No matter how much it hurt.

"Good-bye, Brian."

"Yeah," he said and hung up the phone. Sat motionless for a long while he imagined what life with Kenneth would have been like and then he put aside those thoughts and opened the folder on his desk and went back to work on the newest Liberty Air campaign. 

 

Only he hadn't put those thoughts far enough away and they returned to haunt him on his drive home. Although they'd been in the new house for a week now, he almost took his old route to the loft. Arriving home a little after six thirty, he smelled dinner cooking the moment he walked into the side door.

"Hey."

It was like old times. Him coming home from work, the loft filled with the aroma of a hot meal, Justin at the stove. Except that Justin had two stoves now and the kitchen was as big as the livingroom in the loft had been. "Hey," he said and laid his briefcase on the kitchen island to free his hands and arms as they kissed hello.

"Reverend Ophelia finally faxed her sermon. Looks good. I don't think it needs any changes."

"Then fax it back to her."

"Don't you want to see it?"

"I trust you." He picked up his briefcase and started out of the kitchen.

"Brian?"

Turning his head. "Hmm?"

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Perfect." Taking the back stairs, he went up to the second floor and walked the long hallway to their suite, dropped his briefcase in his office, and headed for the closet where he stripped and hung up his clothes and found a pair of sweats and a tank top to put on. Maybe he'd do a few miles on the treadmill. Too bad the sauna wasn't installed yet, it'd feel nice to sit and steam for a while after a run. The only problem was he didn't really feel like running, he didn't feel like eating, didn't feel like doing anything but sitting in the closet right where he was.

After a while Justin came upstairs to see what had happened to him. Found him in the closet with his running shoes neglected next to the bench. Justin leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. "So?"

"So what?"

"So what's wrong? And don't tell me nothing."

And how was he going to explain to his partner that he was sad because of the absence of one guest from their wedding. Justin had to contend with his father not coming and finding out that his grandmother couldn't make it and all that had happened to him was that Kenneth wasn't coming. And yet his absence would be felt as keenly as any. Which shouldn't have been. He'd only known Kenneth since the trial, not even two years. Why was the man so important to him? There was no denying it, Kenneth was special to him and he didn't know why or how to explain it and he knew, he knew that if he told Justin why he was down, Justin wouldn't understand or, worse, would understand too well. He had no desire to hurt him, to make him feel threatened, to cast a shadow over their wedding but how could they start their new life with a lie between them? So he told the truth. "Kenneth's not coming to the wedding."

"Business?" Even though he knew that wasn't the reason.

"No." Brian looked up at him. "He said it'd hurt too much." Paraphrased, true, but that was the gist of what the man had said.

"Because he loves you," said Justin. He stopped himself from continuing to speak and counted to ten, tried to see this from Brian's perspective. "I'm sorry," he said, "I know how much you wanted him there."

"I wanted all my friends to be there, not just Kenneth." Somehow, a defensive tone had crept into his voice.

"You don't have to explain. I know that you're friends."

Smiling softly, Brian stood. "So what's for dinner?" 

 

That evening as he went over their finances at one end of the table, Justin checked the list of preparations at the other end to make sure they were on track for Saturday. There were only four days left before the big event. Four days and so many things still to do. At the top of the list was a wedding present for Brian. They'd agreed to skip Valentine's Day this year because of the wedding which was one less thing to worry about but it still didn't help his dilemma. What to get Brian?

"What are you thinking about?" Brian asked, having seen the look on his face by accident.

"Stuff."

"Oh," said Brian in pseudo awe, "stuff."

"Shut up," Justin told him and shook his head and went back to his list.

"What's left to do?"

"Check with the caterers on Thursday to make sure everything's set, check with Gaia about the cake, make sure everyone knows they're supposed to be over here at six for rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner… do the seating chart… make sure the guys pick up their tuxes on Friday, make sure Gus and Molly have their stuff… I have to check with your mom to see if she was able to get the rest of the decorations and the favors… double check that the party rental place is going to deliver the chairs and tables Saturday morning and that they have a table for the cake and champagne…"

"Stop, you'll give us both headaches."

Justin gestured at the pile of bills and invoices in front of Brian. "How are we doing?"

"Get used to staying home."

"Are we broke?"

"No, we are not broke. But until we pay off some of these bills, we're going to be budgeting for a while."

"I'm good at clipping coupons," Justin boasted.

"I just bet you are." As a rule, Brian frowned on the use of coupons but they might actually have to use them for a couple months. But it was worth it. The house looked great and the wedding would be fabulous. And the smile on Justin's face whenever he looked around the house or thought about the wedding was worth every penny.

Justin asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"You."

Blushing, he went back to his work, a smile lingering about his lips. 

 

Before they knew it Thursday had come and it was time to rehearse for the wedding. DJ Twist wasn't there but he'd sent Justin a CD of the music for the ceremony so they would be able to practice their timing. Mel brought their boom box from home and set it up in the tower stairwell which was going to serve as the wedding directors' base of operations. The wedding party would use the second floor as a staging area and descend the stairs in order and process to the area just in front of the French doors leading to the solarium. Vic and Debbie sat in the audience, having brought over some folding chairs from their basement to set-up the first and second rows.

Reverend Ophelia arrived wearing a white cassock over a pair of jeans and some platform shoes. Gus was instantly taken with her outfit and spent the first ten minutes she was there trying to look up her dress.

"That settles it," said Ted, "he's straight."

"Maybe," Vic suggested, "he needs to do a lot of research first before he makes up his mind."

Joanie loved her accent, it reminded her of her grandmother who had come over from Ireland at the turn of the century. She couldn't wait to get Reverend Ophelia alone at dinner and find out where she was from.

Mel and Lindsay passed around one of the programs so that everyone could see it. White with a navy blue border and silver snowflake watermarks.

"Oh, that's beautiful," said Debbie. "The wedding service of Brian Andrew Kinney and Justin Matthew Taylor." Both the mothers smiled, taken with it too.

Having gone over with Mel and Lindsay what was supposed to happen when, Rev. Ophelia herded everyone upstairs, except Deb and Vic who were sitting in the audience. "Nervous?" she asked Justin and he shook his head. Rather than feeling nervous, he felt kind of light and airy. Which was probably nervousness in disguise.

"You take a hit?" Brian asked.

"No," he replied indignantly. He hadn't smoked any weed in a long time. The last time was with Brian and they'd gotten so silly that, in disgust, they'd both sworn off for a while.

Before Brian could interrogate him further, Mel cued them with the last few measures of "Adante" from the _Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 in G_ that would be played at the end of the musical prelude. With that Rev. Ophelia moved into place, standing on the bottom steps of the staircase. Then the first notes of "Air" from _Water Music Suite No. 1_ began to play and she stepped down with her Bible and the commitment candle in her hands and started down the aisle towards the ceremony area and the seven branch candelabra they'd set up. Mel had joked, "Catholic and Episcopalian, and you're using a menorah." When the Reverend was about halfway down the aisle, Lindsay signaled Molly and she began to process, sprinkling white silk flowers from the white wicker basket she would use on Saturday. It was beautifully decorated with silver ribbons and silk flowers in their wedding colors. She would have real freeze-dried white rose petals the day of the wedding. They were the only real flowers they'd use for which Justin and his allergies were very grateful.

"Molly, walk slower," Lindsay told her and she slowed down. A little.

Rev. Ophelia arrived at the spot where the ceremony would take place and put the blue and silver commitment candle in the middle of the holder. Then she waited.

As Molly reached the halfway point, Lindsay handed Gus a pillow from the sofa and told him to walk towards Molly. Which he did without hesitation. Whether he'd do it on the day of the wedding was anyone's guess. Some kids basked in the attention, others became overwhelmed. With Brian for a father, Gus had a better than average chance of coming through like a champion. As is, he strode down the aisle, waving at Debbie and Vic, and laughing until he reached Molly. Rev. Ophelia separated them and had him stand to one side and Molly the other which didn't sit well with Gus but he did as he was told. Mommy had told him to listen to the lady in the white dress.

Following Gus were Ted and Joanie, Joan carrying a lit white and silver candle which she would put in one end of the candelabra. Brian wanted to practice with them to avoid any untoward surprises come Saturday. Which was probably a good idea.

Reverend Ophelia observed Ted for a few moments, then said, "Theodore, smile. It's a happy occasion."

When they reached the area for the ceremony, Joanie put her candle in place and then took hold of Gus' hand and moved to the side. Ted sat down in a chair on the front row, relieved to be off stage.

Meanwhile, Emmett escorted Jennifer to her place and he must have had visions of Milan in his head because Mel called out, "Emmett, you're not on the catwalk. Tone it down."

"Sorry, sweetie." Turning down his flame a few notches, he continued down the aisle with Jennifer on his arm.

Barely suppressing her laughter, Jenn put her candle in the opposite end of the candelabra from Joanie, then she and Molly moved to the side and Emmett took his seat, crossing his legs ever so neatly.

Arm in arm, Michael and Daphne sauntered down the aisle. She had come home early from Princeton in order to rehearse for the ceremony and was anxious for Justin to show her around the house since she hadn't been able to tour it after all before going back to school. She couldn't wait for Justin see her dress. Couldn't wait for Courtney to see it either. He was coming down on Saturday. Both Daphne and Michael carried candles, representing the grooms' friends as the candles Jenn and Joanie had carried represented their families. Coming to the candelabra, they separated, put their candles in place, and then moved to their respective sides. They all waited as the music for the wedding party procession ended and the French horns sounded, signaling the grooms' procession.

Vic and Deb stood and turned as the congregation would do on the day of the wedding. Brian and Justin were standing before the front doors. Hand in hand, with lit candles in their free hands, they walked slowly towards the rest of the wedding party. At first they both endeavored to be solemn but then Justin began to smile and soon, never able to resist Justin's smile, Brian did too. Within moments, everyone was smiling. They looked so beautiful together, even in jeans and sweaters and with Brian's hair messed up from some last minute kissing he and Justin had engaged in before coming downstairs. Reaching the candelabra, they placed their tapers on either side of the commitment candle and moved back so that Rev. Ophelia could take her place in front of it.

She looked over the wedding party arrayed before her: Molly, Jennifer, Daphne, Justin, Brian, Michael, Joanie, and Gus, bright in their love, and nodded. "Dearly Beloved…" she began and stopped. "Well," she said to Lindz and Mel, "I think that went rather well, don't you?"

"Perfect. Now if they could just do that on Saturday," said Mel.

"We'll have to have faith." Opening her Bible, she took out her program. "Now, after we have the blessing and I say a few necessary words about marriage, Lindsay and Vic will read a selection of poetry."

"I think," Lindsay suggested, "that we should stand by the fountain. We can reserve seats for Vic and Debbie in the second row and when it's time to read the poetry, I'll come up and meet Vic there."

"That's perfect," Ophelia said. "Then after the poetry, we'll have a musical selection and a blessing," this with a grin for Brian's benefit, "and do the declaration of intent. Then the blessing of the families and the congregation and after that, Jennifer and Joanie can sit down. Probably this would be a good time for Molly to sit as well." Molly and Jennifer and Joanie sat. "After that we'll do the exchange of vows. Brian and Justin will each say a few words before we do the formal exchange." And at Brian's panicked look, she asked, "You do have your vows written, correct?"

"Working on it," he confessed.

"Work fast," she advised. "So, we exchange vows and then rings. At that point Gus can sit down." Gus looked up at his name. Looked around as Joanie called him. He went to her and sat in the next chair. "Then I'll declare you partners for life and tell you to kiss your groom, pause pause pause." Brian laughed. "After that, I'll speak a blessing, and you'll light the commitment candles while another musical selection plays. Then I'll offer another blessing and the benediction and introduce the couple." She smiled. "And then someone will get me a stiff drink and I can get off my feet."

Deb laughed. "Amen to that."

"So, any questions?" she asked.

Justin said, "Now that we've gone through it, I think that the declaration should come after the commitment candle lighting." Turned to Brian. "What do you think?"

He was, of course, thinking about the vows that he hadn't written yet. "I think either way is fine. Although," he added, "it probably makes more sense for the declaration to come afterwards since lighting the candles is part of our vows, kind of."

Nearly everyone in the room stared at him, except Gus who was busy playing with his pillow, sans fake rings.

"What?"

Justin kissed him. "Sometimes you do real good, Pookie."

Rev. Ophelia guffawed. "My Lord. Pookie."

"Pookie and Pooh," Ted told her.

"Pee-Pee," Emmett added and she laughed even harder.

Looking at them, Gus wondered why Emmett wasn't moving if he had to go?

The work part over, they turned their attention to dinner. Justin had grilled half a dozen small pork tenderloins and made a blackberry and wine sauce while Brian had fixed the salad: mixed greens with a champagne vinaigrette and blue cheese. Everyone trooped into the kitchen and piled their plates, Lindsay doing the honors for Gus, and returned to the family room to sit where they wanted and chill. Gus, Molly, and Em spread out on the sectional and watched Beauty and the Beast.

"I just love that story," said Em.

"Yeah, cause you've dated enough beasts," Ted said.

"Beauty can't help what it attracts," replied Em.

As she'd hoped, Joanie had persuaded Rev. Ophelia to sit with her by the game top table and tell her about Ireland. She'd never gone but still hoped to do so some day.

With Justin and Daphne wandering through the house, Brian slipped away virtually unnoticed. Except for Lindsay. She rose and followed him, found him sitting on the back stairs with only the storm door closed.

"Mind some company?" He made room for her. "I can't wait to see this place all decorated. It's going to be so beautiful."

"Yeah."

"Brian Kinney having a fairy tale wedding."

"Who'd have ever thought it'd happen."

"Me." He looked over at her. "Except I thought, maybe, it might be us someday."

Brian laughed, remembering. "I used to tense up every time you even looked at a bridal magazine."

"Why'd you do it? Go out with me if…"

He shrugged. "I guess, I thought, what the hell? Why not give it a try?"

"Being straight?"

"Pussy."

She pushed him. "Be serious."

Sobering up, he said, "Because I liked you. You were different from the other girls I'd known."

"Guess you didn't know too many lesbians."

Raising a brow, he said, "I went to Catholic school until the ninth grade. I'd seen plenty of lesbians." They both chuckled.

"So how was I different?"

"Fishing for compliments? At your age?" But he smiled and said, "You cared about… people. All your fuckin' causes and marches and debates." Shook his head. "You reminded me of Mikey, except that Michael wouldn't have marched in a protest if his life depended on it. But you, you'd set yourself on fire if that's what it took. I admired that."

"You were always so cool. Never got angry about anything. I thought. But then I got to know you and I realized that you did care, you just didn't wear your heart out on your sleeve."

"Get it ripped off. Broken."

"The way Cam broke your heart?"

He leaned against the wall. "For the best, I suppose. If I'd been with him, I would have never met Justin." A muscle in his cheek twitched and gave into the desire to smile.

Squeezing his forearm, she said, "I'm so happy for you."

"Me too," he admitted.

"So," she asked, "why are you sitting out here by yourself?"

"Just thinking."

"About?"

God, she was so like Justin, no wonder he'd been attracted to her. Both artists, both touchy feely, both onto him and his ways. He gave in. "Kenneth can't come to the wedding."

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't."

"And you're upset." She studied his face. "Why?"

Not answering right away, he gazed out of the door at the night. But there was nothing there but the sky and the stars and they held no answers for him. "Because I thought we could be friends. I thought… maybe… maybe I didn't have to give him up," he admitted and the thought scared him a little, that he cared that much for Kenneth. But he knew that wasn't all of it. He'd been seeing Dr. Drew for too long to pretend otherwise. "Cam died and we never got to be friends and I thought… this was my chance."

Wrapping her arms around him, she held him and whispered, "You're a good person, you know that?"

"Tell that to Mel."

"She knows it too." Brushing her thumb over his cheek, she asked, "You ever think about having another child?"

"Justin maybe."

"You make beautiful babies."

He looked down at her. "You propositioning me?"

"Think about it." She released him with a kiss. "We can talk again after the wedding." Then, standing, she reached out to him and together they walked hand-in-hand back to where the others were waiting.

As if he just remembered (which he had) Vic said, "Oh. Guess what I saw in our local gay rag."

"What?" asked Em, always game.

"Wedding announcement."

"Ours?" asked Justin. He and Daphne had returned from their tour. "I was gonna look but I forgot."

"I cut it out." Reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of newspaper. "Voila."

Justin smiled as he read. "Brian Andrew Kinney and Justin Matthew Taylor will celebrate their marriage February 15th at the home of the grooms. Brian, a graduate of Pennsylvania State University, is the son of Joanie Kinney and is a partner in an advertising and public relations firm. Justin is the son of Jennifer Taylor and is a student at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. The Reverend Ophelia O'Leary will officiate."

Even though Justin had seemed happy, Brian knew that he was disappointed that his father wouldn't be attending the wedding. Still, the young man passed around the announcement proudly and beamed.

"You two look very handsome," said Lindsay.

Justin had submitted a copy of the photo that Brian had taken of them on the sofa. He loved that picture. It had a place of honor next to the photograph of Sebastian and James on the mantelpiece in the family room and among the photographs of their friends and family. Justin looked around at the group that was gathered around them and suddenly it didn't hurt as much that his dad had excused himself from the festivities. He had all the family that mattered right here. 

 

Justin rubbed his knees against Brian's waist as the man thrust into him. They had woken up hungry for one another, wanting to make love as many times as they could since they'd spend the night apart, their last night as free men before the wedding. Besides which, it was Valentine's Day. Groaning, Justin came against Brian's belly and held on as his lover continued to pump against him, hurtling towards his own orgasm.

Standing outside, Joanie and Jennifer listened as their children had sex. They'd come to the house to help with last minute preparations. Waiting until after nine, they'd arrived at the front door only to hear their sons gasping for air. They must have accidentally set the intercom to broadcast in their room.

Blushing deeply, they returned to their cars, glad Molly wasn't with them. Giving the men ten or fifteen minutes to recover, the women walked back to the house and, hearing nothing, entered. Brian and Justin had given them both keys: Joanie's in order for her to help with decorating the house and Jennifer's in case of emergencies.

Once inside, they were at a loss as to whether they should just wait downstairs or try and let the boys know they were there. Finally, Jennifer hit upon the idea of calling them on the telephone. She knew Brian kept the cordless phone on the nightstand by their bed. So she called. After a few moments, Justin answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey."

"Mom, when are you coming over?"

"I'm already here. Downstairs."

"How long have you been there?"

"We got here about fifteen minutes ago and we've been out in the cars."

"Why didn't you come in?"

She paused. "Ah, you left the intercom on broadcast in your room."

Silence. Then, "Fuck. Sorry."

She could imagine his cheeks were fiery red. "See you in a while."

"Bye, Mom."

Brian came out of the closet pulling on a pair of briefs. "What's up?"

Crooking his finger, Justin led Brian towards the door to their suite. Flipped the switch on the intercom. They must have brushed against it when they stumbled to bed last night, too busy kissing and pulling off clothes to notice what they were doing.

"Note to self: check the intercom before fucking," quipped Brian. Being the brazen hussy that he was though, his embarrassment didn't last long and he joked as they walked downstairs, "Are you sure it was on? Maybe they just heard you moaning the way the super did."

Justin cut his eyes at him. "Don't start none, won't be none," he warned and Brian laughed.

"My own little snap queen."

Throwing up his palm, Justin said, "Talk to the hand," and Brian grabbed him and kissed his fingers until Justin giggled.

"Listen to them," Joanie said as she and Jennifer stood in the kitchen eavesdropping. "I'd never heard Brian laugh like that before Justin."

The two men arrived in the kitchen, kissed their moms, and immediately went into action, Justin tending to the bagels and cream cheese while Brian put on the coffee maker. Within minutes they had a pretty serviceable breakfast ready and sat in the kitchen on the bar stools Joanie had found for them, brushed chrome diner stools with maple wood seats. The two women, meanwhile, took the lights and other decorations they'd brought for the reception hall into the family room and began to set everything out in preparation for putting them up. They'd decided to put up the lights and the other wall decorations now, and get the trees decorated and everything else they could do today so that tomorrow they'd just have to wait until the tables and chairs had been set up to put everything in place. Making trips out to their cars, they brought the rest of the items inside and got to work. Within ten or fifteen minutes, Brian and Justin were done eating and came out to help. Getting the ladder from the garage (they'd bought one after moving in the house for Joanie to reach the tops of windows while putting up the curtains), Brian climbed on it while Justin handed up the lights that were to hang from the rafters. They'd bought strands of rice lights and connected them and planned on stringing them along one rafter and then another until they had all of the wooden beams covered. It took the better part of an hour to put them up, since Brian had to staple the lights to one end of the beam, then move to the middle and staple it again, and then do the same for the end but when they called Joanie and Jenn in and turned on the lights, they looked amazing.

"I can't wait until evening to see them lit up," said Joanie. "So beautiful."

While they had been putting up the lights, Joanie and Jenn had decorated the four small silver Christmas trees with blue ornaments and had just begun to do the same to the six birch bushes in pots that Joanie had spray painted white, stringing tiny lights in their branches and then decorating the trees in Brian and Justin's wedding colors, adding silver snowflakes and glittering azure balls.

Joanie got out her list and checked items off. "Two of the silver trees go up front, two in the livingroom by the doors. Two of the birch trees will go in here, two in the livingroom, and two in the solarium next to the cake table." For now, they stored the trees in the dining room with the wedding flowers.

With the reception hall done, they turned to the solarium, stringing lights over the doorways and windows until the entire room was encircled in glittering icicles.

They hung garlands of snowflakes over the mantelpiece of the fireplace and over the windows in the livingroom. As there would be lit votives on each table and the chandelier overhead would be on, they didn't hang any additional lights in there.

When one o'clock rolled around, Brian could have eaten a bear he was so hungry. The bagel they'd had at breakfast hadn't stuck around and there was an empty feeling inside him. Walking to the kitchen through the family room he asked Justin, "What about in here? I know we're not doing anything in here officially but maybe we should put up some candles or something. It'll look kind of bare otherwise."

Justin made a motion to Joanie and Jennifer, proud of him for thinking of that on his own. "You do care," he said and Brian shrugged off his praise.

"Just don't want people thinking we have no taste or are too cheap to do something right."

After lunch, Joanie worked on the wreaths for the front doors and the decorations for the gate; Justin tackled the piece that would go on the candelabra; and Jennifer took off to spend a few hours at work before the day was over.

"Anything you want me to do?" Brian asked aware that he was asking a loaded question. There were a hundred things to do but they had to trust that other people would pull their weight and get it done. No point in hiring people and then micromanaging them. It was better to let them do their job unhindered by unnecessary supervision.

"Do we have everything for the party tonight?"

"Yeah. It's just us and the guys. Mel and Lindsay didn't even want to come."

"I don’t think I blame them," said Joanie. "I can't imagine what you boys get up to."

"You don’t have to imagine," Brian teased, "you heard us this morning."

Popping him on the arm, Justin said, "Brian! Go in the other room and play by yourself." Then he burst out laughing. "On second thought…"

Released from work detail, Brian went upstairs and into their bedroom and thought about his vows, the ones he was supposed to have written by now. Taking out his laptop, he hooked it up and sat on the bed and stared at the blank document screen. He sat there for fifteen minutes and nothing came to him, nothing that could express what he felt for Justin. How could you explain to anyone, even your friends, how deeply someone had affected you without opening up your heart and saying, Here, this is the place where he touched me? If only he could, it would have been easier than trying to write vows. Putting aside his laptop, he went rummaging through their CDs and he came across the one Sebastian had given Justin and put it in. Sat back on the bed with the remote in his hand. Having listened to it before, he skipped back to the last song on the CD, "Doe Eyes". He remembered watching the movie with Justin one evening, not his thing at all he'd thought, but he'd ended up being just as affected by Robert and Francesca's story as Justin, thinking how close he and Justin had come to spending their lives apart. Robert's words came back to him, _"This kind of certainty only comes once in a lifetime."_ Once, and if you missed your chance, there weren't any more. But he'd gotten a second chance. With Justin. Justin had been his second chance at living. Maybe he'd been his first chance, maybe what he had thought of as being in love with Cam hadn't really been love at all. Not the kind to last a lifetime. No, not a lifetime. But what he and Justin had couldn't be destroyed or put aside or forgotten.

He looked at the neglected laptop. Or put into words apparently. 

He'd fallen asleep and when he awoke Justin was lying beside him, dozing as well. Tomorrow, this time, they'd be putting the finishing touches on the decorations and making sure everything was perfect before getting ready for the wedding. As easy as possible, he turned over onto his side and watched Justin sleep. It was one of his guilty pleasures, one he freely admitted to. Like Justin said of him, he watched him because he found him beautiful. Justin's eyes opened and he became lost in the blue of his irises. Wordlessly, Justin came to him. "Doesn't this count as pre-wedding nookie?" he asked and his lover kissed him and the question was forgotten.

An hour later, they had showered and Justin had packed his bag in preparation for his sleepover at his mom's house. He'd meet Daphne over there around ten after having spent some time with Brian and the guys.

"You sure you don't want to stay with me tonight?" Brian asked with a devilish grin on his face.

"Tradition."

"I don't know if you've noticed but we're not your traditional couple."

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Justin led the way downstairs. "Uh-huh." 

 

"Remember when Justin came to Babylon looking for Brian and Brian was down there dancing with those two guys?" asked Emmett. Brian shook his head in dismay and Justin grinned proudly. He'd gotten his man that night. Took those two guys from him and made Brian jealous enough to take him from them. Not as if he'd ever wanted those guys. He'd snagged the man he'd wanted. And kept him too.

"Actually, I don't," Ted told his best friend.

"Oh, that's right," said Emmett. "That was the night you met that tweaked-out twinkie from Hell, Blake."

Michael warned, "Play nice."

"So," Justin asked, "is Jeff coming tomorrow?"

"Don't know." He studied the umbrella in his tropical drink. "We had a little fight," he admitted. "I don't know if we're gonna see each other anymore." Lifted his glass. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Hey," Em reminded him, "no talk about Valentine's Day. This is a bachelor's party. Not a feel-sorry-for-our-looserly-selves-because-we're-not-getting-married party or a why-don't-we-have-boyfriends-and-it's-Valentine's-Day party."

Ted gave his head a little shake and laughed. That's why he loved Emmett cause Emmett could put a spin on anything. Not exactly a positive spin but something. "So, guys, what about a honeymoon?"

"We honeymooned in Europe last summer," Brian explained.

"But that was last summer," complained Em. "You should go somewhere."

"We're staying home," said Justin.

"Poor baby."

Justin flashed a bright smile. "We're gonna fuck and lay around and fuck some more. Have lots of intimate dinners and fuck. Watch TV and fuck. Take baths together and—"

"We get the picture," Ted said. "Youth."

"And Viagra," added Em.

"I do not need Viagra," Brian informed them.

"He can get hard any time he wants," said Justin proudly.

Before Justin could spill any more of his secrets, Brian pulled him up from his chair. "Come on. Let's dance." He hit the remote and "Roll it Up" by The Crystal Method began to play.

_"ah ah ah ah…_  
and ya don't stop…  
yeah…  
woooooo  
aw aw aw  
woooooo  
aw aw aw  
and ya don't quit quit…  
aw aw aw aw aw aw aw…" 

By the time the song had gone through its only verse the first time, the rest of the guys were up on the floor.

_"turn the mothafuckin mic up…_  
turn the mothafuckin mic up…  
and ya don't…  
aw aw aw aw aw aw aw… " 

"Is this going to be your song?" asked Ted and Brian gave him the finger.

Over chips and margaritas, the guys relived some of their favorite Brian and Justin moments. "Remember that time you told Justin you were staying home to work and he came to Woody's and found you at the bar?" Michael asked and Justin covered his face. He had acted like such a teen drama queen.

"The time Justin told Brian he was having dinner with Daphne and Brian caught him in the backroom at Babylon," Ted remembered.

"That hellish trip to Princeton when Justin and his little friends made Brian listen to that TLC CD three times in a row," Emmett recalled.

"I'm still disappointed they didn't show up on the eleven o'clock news," said Ted.

Michael snickered. "Ryder coming into your office after you and Justin had been in there fucking."

"The super leaving all those notes in your newspaper after hearing you fucking," added Emmett.

"Us listening to you and Justin fucking in the loft," said Ted. _"Oh, Baby, harder. Fuck me—"_ Brian pushed Ted and the accountant laughed.

Michael went, "Oo. Your mom walking in on you fucking at Gus' birthday party."

Emmett agreed. "That was a good one. Her face… that look was priceless." He made the face and the guys cracked up.

"Speaking of naked moments," Ted said, "what about Brian coming out naked when Daphne was visiting Justin?"

"Brian flashing us on Justin's birthday," Michael said.

"Brian flashing the bellboy at the hotel in the Bahamas," said Justin and Brian threw one of the pillows from the sofa at him.

"I seem to remember someone coming out of the shower bare assed when Lindsay came over once," he said, smiling at Justin who blushed. Neither one of them had told the story of the couple who'd watched them have sex on the beach in the Bahamas. They had to have some secrets.

But the guys weren't finished with them. "Thanksgiving," said Em, "when Justin called Brian Pookie."

"The first time my mom saw their commitment rings."

Ted went back to the very beginning. "The first time Brian saw Justin." The two grooms smiled softly, remembering that first moment. Who knew it would lead to this?

"So," Emmett asked them, "what's your favorite Brian and Justin moment?"

Brian frowned. Out of all of their adventures in lands foreign and domestic; all of the times they'd made love, had fucked until they'd collapsed, exhausted; had laughed until they'd cried; had cried until they'd been washed clean; out of all those moments, the one that meant the most to him was, "Walking into Justin's hospital room and hearing him laugh." He paused, reliving it again. "That's when I knew that it would really be all right, that I hadn't lost him."

"Hearing him say he loved me for the first time," said Justin without preamble, without having to think about it. "I felt like, no matter what, I could face it, because we'd be together."

"And," Brian added, seeing the glistening eyes around him, "that time in London when we danced around the fountain in Leicester Square."

Justin laughed. "That was the best!"

Dabbing at his eyes, Em said, "I'm going to be a mess tomorrow."

"Just—don't forget your hankies," Ted told him, sniffling too. 

 

They held each other, standing by the kitchen door, and kissed. Parting, Brian said, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Sure you won't change your mind?"

Justin shook his head. "Besides, it'll give you and Michael time to talk."

"More talking?" Brian complained. "Fuck."

"Be good. I'll be back around noon." Quick kiss. "Later."

"Later." He stood in the doorway until Justin had loaded up and pulled out. Waited until the taillights turned a corner and they had parted for the night. Locking the door, he returned to the family room. Ted and Emmett had already gone, only he and Mikey were left. He picked up his beer and plopped down on the sectional where Michael was sitting, having turned the TV to Cartoon Network. The Powerpuff Girls were on.

"Look, it's 'Cootie Gras'. I love this one."

Brian shook his head. "Pathetic." But he crossed his feet on the coffee table and watched too, laughing as Mojo Jojo terrorized the Powerpuff Girls by threatening to give them the cooties from Harry Pitt. Having gone on a crime spree and become boss of all the criminal syndicates in Townsville, Mojo made a fatal mistake in forcing the Powerpuff Girls to face Harry Pitt with nowhere to run. When the girls learned that they could not, in fact, get the cooties from Harry, they kicked Mojo's butt. The guys laughed the hardest when Mojo ended up in prison with this huge inmate looking at him rather amorously while the Narrator said, "Love is in the air." Inhaled deeply. "Mmmm! Can't you just smell it?"

When the Cartoon Network special came on with Johnny Bravo, they turned down the volume and ignored it. Instead, they talked the way they used to, about the past, as old friends do.

"Had you ever done it with a girl before Lindsay?"

"Nope. No interest."

"Then why her?"

He shrugged. "I liked her." Laughed. "She was pretty hot, you know. Even Jack thought so."

"I always figured maybe you did it because of him. To impress him."

"Maybe a little," he admitted. "But it was fun being with her. Plus, she's tall. I didn't have to lean over too much to kiss her. Sometimes I get a neck ache kissing Justin."

"Which is why your favorite position is horizontal," teased Michael.

"Exactly."

Michael finished off his beer. "You ready?"

Taking a deep breath, Brian said, "No." Chuckled lightly. "My heart was beating like a fuckin' freight train last night during rehearsal. I kept asking myself, 'Why are you doing this?' "

"You two looked amazing. Totally beautiful."

Brian smiled and it was as if his entire body was infused with light. "He did look beautiful, didn't he?"

"That's why you're doing this. Because of the way you look when you talk about him. The way he makes you smile like no one else does."

Looking down at his hands for a moment, Brian glanced at his friend. "Thanks. For being here… for being my best man… and my best friend."

They embraced. "Where else would I be?"

Checking the clock. "Probably at Babylon or Woody's," said Brian, "dancing with some hot guy."

"Well, my hot guy is in New York getting a job that's probably gonna take him a million miles away."

"Europe isn't that far," Brian told him. "Just eight hours by plane."

"It's over. Not that I think it ever got started."

Brian shook Michael's knee. "You'll find someone, trust me. If I can do it, anyone can. Course, he found me." Laughed and shook his head. "It's like a dream, you know?"

Michael stood and held out his hand the way Brian had held out his on top of the hospital the night Gus was born. "Come on. It's time to go to bed so you can get up in the morning and get married tomorrow."

Arms around each other, they walked upstairs to the master suite and dropped off their clothes and slipped into bed. With a peck on the lips, Brian turned over and closed his eyes. "Night, Mikey."

He traced the muscles in Brian's back with his eyes, having touched him so many times that he knew the feel of them by sight, and yet, this one time, he couldn't touch him, in this bed where Brian and Justin had made love, would make love tomorrow as a married couple. For a moment, he felt sorry for himself, and then he realized that no matter what, he would always have Brian, no more, no less than he always had, and that, by far, was better than not having him at all. "Night, Brian."

"Night, Mary Ellen."

Michael snorted. "Night, John Boy."

"Boy, oh boy," camped Brian and the two friends laughed and settled down to take their rest.

Tomorrow was a big day. 

 

Justin and Daphne sat on his bed eating potato chips. That is, he was eating potato chips and she was sipping a Diet Coke.

"Do you think Brian is gonna show tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he said, a hint of disgust in his voice. "Daphne."

"Well... you never know." Her shoulders were hunched. "He might freak out or something."

"He came to the prom," he reminded her.

"True. He looked soo hot." A smile crept across her face as she remembered.

"Hey!" Justin bumped her. "That's my hubby you're drooling over."

"Not yet. Not until tomorrow. So, until then, I can drool all I want."

"You are such a freak."

"I love you too." Justin offered her a chip but she refused. "I have to fit into my dress tomorrow."

"Daphne, you don't weigh anything."

"Neither do you."

Justin boasted, "Brian says I'm all ass."

She collapsed in laughter. "God, I love him. I am so glad you two are together."

"Me too. It's better than I ever expected."

"Is there anything you want that you don't have?"

"Nope. I have everything I've ever wanted. Good friends, a great place to live—"

"A fabulous place to live."

"—a child, and someone to share my life with." It was kind of amazing, that he was only twenty and all that was left was for him to make his mark in the world. And that would come, with time, Brian assured him.

"I think you need a dog," she suggested.

"No way. Brian would never let me have a dog."

"It's your house too."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't do it unless he agreed. That's how we're supposed to do things, right? Make decisions together? Besides, my allergies are bad enough as is."

"But it'd be cool."

He thought about it. "Yeah. It would be. But we've got Gus."

"Justin!" she laughed. "Gus is not a pet."

"He's too funny. He's totally in love with Molly. He gave her a cookie at dinner the other week. And he never shares his dessert. Not even with Brian."

"He's going to be the cutest ringbearer ever. And how awesome is it that he calls you Daddy?"

Justin's eyes gleamed. "It's the second best thing."

"So what's the best?"

He glanced from beneath thick lashes. "When Brian calls me Baby." And just saying it, thinking about Brian saying it, made him shiver. 

 

He thought that waking up on the day of his wedding would feel differently from waking up on an ordinary day. But it didn't. Except maybe for that fluttering sensation in his stomach that had nothing to do with being hungry and everything to do with being slightly nervous. Okay, really nervous.

"How you doing?" Michael asked, sitting up beside him as he rubbed his eyes and tried to focus.

"Wishing Justin was here. No offense, but I like a little early morning nookie."

"And midday, evening, and late night nookie too," said Michael. "We've heard. You hungry? For something other than nookie?" he asked.

"A little. Justin left pancake mix."

"You're going to cook?"

"Unless you want to do it. I can pour batter on the griddle." Flinging back the covers, he padded to the bathroom for a morning leak. Looking around at the pale peach-colored walls and the Corian topped wood vanities, he counted the days until the contractors would come and tear it all down.

After they'd both washed up a bit, he and Michael went about assembling breakfast and even though he didn't have to tell Michael where anything was because the la mattina was fully equipped for breakfast with coffee cups and saucers stored in the top cabinet and cream, sugar, and orange juice in the refrigerator beneath the counter, and although they had breakfast finished in no time flat and sat at the island laughing about old times, it still felt differently from when he and Justin were in the kitchen together. With his coffee mug halfway to his mouth, he paused and smiled. He missed his Baby.

"What?" asked Michael, having seen the smile.

"I'm getting married today." 

 

Taking a plate from his mom, Justin joined Daphne at the table. Molly was already there, having started eating without them. The two coeds waited until Jennifer had sat down before they began. Both Jenn and Daphne were surprised to see that Justin's appetite hadn't been diminished any by his upcoming nuptials.

"Aren't you nervous?" Daphne asked, which earned her a questioning look from Jenn. Don't poke the bear, it seemed to say.

But Justin shook his head. "I'm in denial."

After breakfast, he and Daphne got ready to go. She was going home to chill out until the afternoon and he was returning home to help finish decorating.

"You sure you don't want me to come over?" Jennifer asked for the tenth time.

"That's okay. We can handle it. Besides, Joanie's coming over."

Before he left, Jenn hugged him tightly. "I know I'm probably going to do this a hundred times today."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Bye, honey."

Driving along the street to their house, he wondered if any of their neighbors realized what was about to happen in their midst. He wanted to roll down the windows in the Cherokee and yell, "I'm getting married today!" The thought made him laugh. _I'm getting married today._

"There he is," Michael told Brian. He'd been keeping look-out while Brian pretended not to care and busied himself with making sure that they had everything in the dining room that they needed to decorate. Not that they could do anything until the party supply company brought the tables and chairs but it kept his hands and mind busy.

Michael grabbed his bag. Gave Brian a hug. "So, I'll meet you guys back here at five?"

"Okay." Brian looked a little pale.

"You know," Michael added, "we may have to make last minute adjustments to our outfits or something. How about the guys and I come back around four thirty?"

Breathing a little easier, Brian replied, "Thanks, Mikey."

They met Justin at the door and Michael hugged him as well and went on his way, leaving the two grooms to say hello.

Kissing softly, they held one another for the longest time, each taking comfort from the other's presence.

"I missed you," said Justin.

"Me too," Brian admitted.

Parting from him, Justin checked his watch. "The tables and chairs and dishes and stuff should be here in the next half hour or so."

"My mom didn't say when she was coming over."

"Mel and Lindsay were waiting until around four because of Gus." The toddler was sure to get in the way, on purpose or not, so they wanted to minimize the amount of time he spent running around. "Plus, the DJ and the caterers won't arrive until four thirty so there's no need for them to be here early."

Walking with him to the reception room, Brian said, "I guess we can run the mop over the floors and make sure everything's ready before the tables get here."

"Help me move the stuff out of the studio first."

So they packed up his drawing board and chair and Gus' easel and lugged them upstairs, taking them to the guest room and not chancing a trip to the master bedroom for fear that tradition would be thrown to the wayside and the tables and chairs would arrive to find them otherwise engaged. With difficulty, they returned downstairs and ran the dust mop over the floors and gave the powder room a thorough cleaning as well as the kitchen. Luckily, since Brian was such a neat freak, the rooms didn't require much cleaning.

By the time they'd finished, they heard a knock on the door. Had to be either Joanie or the tables and chairs. No offense to Joanie, they were really hoping it was the table and chairs.

It was.

Directing the guys to the reception area and the dining room, they stood aside while they put up the tables and chairs and then showed them where to put the two round cake and champagne tables. Along with the chairs and table came the tablecloths, the dishes, flatware, and stemware, and the candelabra.

When the movers were gone, Brian and Justin set about arranging the chairs in the reception hall in rows of four chairs in two sections. They had gotten thirty-six plain white wooden folding chairs with cushioned seats for the ceremony although they were only expecting to have thirty-one people there total including them and Reverend Ophelia. But then they remembered they'd invited Gaia and there was the kid from Justin's school who was going to take photographs of the wedding party. Still, there would be extra chairs, especially since Kenneth wasn't coming and it didn't look like Jeff was either.

Once the chairs were set up, Justin took the candelabra into the dining room and affixed the flower arrangement Joanie had made for it to the front of it, once he figured out which was the front. He carried it out and showed it to Brian who was making fine adjustments to the table and chair arrangement in the living room and putting on the table cloths. Luckily, the tables had an aluminum frame with a plastic core so they were lighter than all-metal tables and he could shift them about easily by himself. They'd sprung for the fancier Chiavari chairs to go with the dining tables as they could get silver wood-frame chairs with navy blue seat cushions. "What do you think?"

"Sweet."

"Enough room in here?"

"Think so." They'd had the movers place their small table in the middle of the floor and the other six larger tables along the window and by the arches leading to the dining room. "As long as the waiters can get around the tables, we're fine."

They heard the front door open before Joanie came in and called out, "Brian? Justin?"

"In here," Justin replied and went and stuck his head out of the doorway. "Hey."

"They brought the table and chairs. Good."

"Guess we should get started."

For the next two hours, they put out the decorated trees and put up the wall decorations, most notably, these mirrored branches that were attached by sticky pads that would roll off the wall without damaging the paint. Or so they hoped as they were putting up four of them in the reception hall to help reflect the light from the ceiling and the candles. Taking out the floating snowflake candles they'd bought for the fountain, Justin carefully placed them in the water. The flow had been set to low for the wedding and the water ran over the edges of the red bowl slowly and gently cascaded into the basin below where the candles were.

Brian put the garland around their table while Justin and Joanie attended to the cake and champagne tables, putting up garlands entwined with tulle and dotted with dark blue and white flowers. After a while, they heard him shout, "Goddamnit!" and went to the livingroom to find him struggling to put the garland on by himself.

"You should have called for help," Justin told him.

"I did."

Giving him a smack on the arm for being sacrilegious, Justin helped him put on the garland and then they put out the centerpieces and votives on each table and on the mantelpieces in the livingroom and the family room. There was also a silver candelabra surrounded by a centerpiece that went on their table, in which they'd put their lit commitment candle after the photo ops. This was in addition to the votives on the table.

"How are we supposed to eat with all this garland and stuff on the table?" asked Brian.

"We're not supposed to eat. We're the hosts. We're supposed to mingle," Justin told him.

"Supposed to pass out," he grumbled.

While they dealt with their table, Joanie went around and put the party favors on each of the other tables, enough for each person to have a memento. Silver dragee was tied in little silver or dark blue organza sachets with tiny clear plastic snowflakes attached. There were also snow globes with pictures of Brian and Justin on the inside and mini silver bells that served as placards. But instead of putting each person's name on them, they left the card holder empty and would rely on Melanie and Lindsay to see that each person got to their seat.

Next came the artificial snow which Justin and Joanie spent a great deal of time trying to sprinkle artfully. Not trusting Brian to do it to their exact specifications, they let him wrap the trees and potted birch branches with snow blankets. He didn't want to point out to them that the cater waiters had to set the tables and light the votives and candles, thus messing up their artfully arranged snow, for fear of being torn apart. Both Justin and Joanie seemed to be a little on edge.

Lastly, they put up the wreaths on the front doors and draped flowers and tulle on the gates of the entry way.

Joanie got out her list. "Is that everything?"

"You mean we don't have decorations for the toilet?" joked Brian but he didn't feel too funny when Joanie and Justin appeared to take his suggestion seriously. "No. No more fuckin' flowers. That's it." Then he toned it down a little. "Besides, it's one o'clock and I'm starving."

"Who can eat?" asked Justin and Brian found a chair and sat down.

"It's a miracle."

Justin bumped him with his hip. "Shut up." And headed for the kitchen. Maybe he could eat a little something. Plus, they needed to check out the dishes.

Justin had picked out white plates with a beautiful decorated silver edge which was further enhanced by the metallic silver chargers that would go underneath. The flatware was a little fancier than Brian would have chosen but it went well with the plates and the stemware was your basic pattern, nothing special. Justin couldn't wait to see how many of their pieces they ended up with. They hadn't looked yet, wanting to be surprised.

Although Brian had claimed hunger, he didn't have much of an appetite either. They all picked at their food for a few moments, then abandoned the pretence and just enjoyed the rest.

"I think," Joanie said after disposing of the remains of her meal, "that I'd like to take a nap."

"Did you bring your clothes with you or do you have to go back home?" asked Justin.

"Everything's out in the car," she told him and he went out and got her bags and hung everything up in Gus' room. She'd already turned back the covers on the bed by the time he asked, "Are you sure you don't want our bed? It's bigger."

"I'll be fine right here. Besides, where would you and Brian sleep?"

Justin laughed. "I'm too wound up. And I don’t want to tempt him," he added.

She laughed as well, knowing exactly what the nature of the temptation would be.

"Well, wake me up when the girls get here with Gus."

"I think you'll hear them," he assured her. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

He returned to their bedroom to find Brian on the phone with someone.

"Sweet. Thanks. Later."

"I didn't hear the phone ring." Fishing.

"It didn’t." Brian lay the telephone down and went into the closet.

"What you doing?"

"Making sure my tux isn't wrinkled."

"It's been in the cleaning bag for a week," Justin pointed out.

"Um-hmm."

Sitting on the bench in the middle of the closet, Justin watched Brian go about his business oblivious to his audience it seemed. "You're ignoring me, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay." Justin stood and unzipped his tux from its bag, checked it over, and left it out. Then he went to his bureau drawer and took out a pair of white, cotton briefs. Brian glanced over.

"You're not wearing those, are you?"

Justin sniffed them to make sure they were clean. "What's wrong with them?"

"It's our wedding day. You can't wear those."

"Why not?" Justin was beginning to think Brian had gone round the bend.

"Wear something sexy."

"Like what?" Justin challenged.

Brian reached into his drawer and drew out a package wrapped in navy blue paper. Anxious and yet a little wary, Justin tore off the paper and opened it. Inside was a pair of black lycra briefs that laced up the back from balls to waist.

"Underneath a tuxedo?" He frowned. "Who's going to see it?"

"Me. After everyone else leaves."

Trying to strike a compromise, Justin said, "I'll put them on then."

"I don't want to wait." He snaked his arm around Justin's waist and kissed him. "You wouldn't want to make me wait, now would you?" Kissed him again. "After waiting all day and all evening." Kissed him a third time.

"I'll wear them under the tuxedo," Justin said breathlessly. Brian had a way with words.

"Good boy."

Just as Justin was about to forget about traditions and Joanie resting in the other room, the phone rang, saving him. Rushing from the closet, Brian's laughter following him, he snatched the phone up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Justin. You ready?" It was Lindsay.

"Uh-huh." Ready for the day to be over so he and Brian could play. "You guys coming over soon?"

"As soon as we can get ready." They had to dress early because they'd be dealing with the caterers and the DJ and Gaia and guests and there would be no time for them to do so once they arrived at the house.

"Did Gus try on his tuxedo?"

"He looks like a little angel. Which he is definitely not."

Laughing, Justin asked, "Hasn't he been a good boy?"

"He's Brian's son all right."

He checked his watch. It was two-thirty. "See you in an hour and a half?"

"We'll be there. And remember," he waited, "breathe."

"Later, Lindsay."

Coming out of the closet, Brian said, "That Lindz?"

"Yeah. They're on schedule. So far."

"Good." Brian stretched out on the bed. "I think I'm going to get forty winks too." Closed his eyes.

Justin stared at him, his long, lean body on display and felt his pulse rate increase. "I think I'm going downstairs and watching TV for a while."

"Suit yourself," replied Brian. "Wake me up when the Munchers get here."

With one last backwards glance at his sleeping lover, Justin trekked downstairs and flipped on the television and within minutes he was fast asleep. 

 

The doorbell was ringing. Someone was at the door. Groggily, Justin rose and went to answer it. Probably Mel and Lindsay and Gus. Sure enough, just as he reached the back door, he heard Gus yelling, "Daddy!" Opening the inside door and unlocking the screen door, he waved to the toddler. As soon as he had the door open, Gus rushed forward and demanded to be picked up. Exchanging kisses, Justin put Gus down and told him Brian was upstairs. Carefully, the toddler climbed the stairs in search of his other daddy. With Gus taken care of for the moment, the women came in and followed Justin to the reception hall.

"Wow, this place looks amazing," Lindsay exclaimed. Walked around to check out the studio and the livingroom, Mel trailing behind her. "Justin, everything looks wonderful."

"Thanks. Joanie was a huge help. And Brian too."

Mel cackled. "It's a day of miracles."

"So," asked Lindsay, "has he finished his vows?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

"You?"

"I think so." Truth was, he was a little shaky. He knew what he wanted to say, he just didn't know if he'd be able to say it when the time came.

"Breathe," Lindz reminded him.

"I am," he told her with a small laugh. "You two look fabulous," he said once they'd taken off their coats and hung them in one of the closets. Mel had on a long, close-fitting beaded sleeveless ice-blue jacket with slits up the side over a matching tank-topped jumpsuit; and Lindsay wore a deep blue sheer chiffon jacket over a crepe top and straight skirt.

"I can't wait to see you and Bri in your tuxes," said Lindsay. "When are the rest of the guys due to arrive?"

"Around four thirty, I think. Least that's when Brian said Michael was coming over."

"If you want to go on up and get ready or do whatever, that's fine. We're here. Right, Mel?"

"Right. You go on, honey. Take your time."

He was anxious to take a shower and relax for a few minutes before the mayhem began so he accepted their offer. About halfway up the stairs he heard Gus talking to Brian although they were in the depths of their bedroom. Definitely not the shy and retiring or quiet type. He found them on the bed bouncing, Gus trying to explain something earth shattering to Brian but he was too excited to get it all out plainly and so Brian only understood about a third of it. Seeing Justin come in, Gus waved and tried to explain it to him as well.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Justin said dashing Brian's hopes of being saved from the rest of the story.

"Don't use up all the hot water."

"We have a huge tank," he told him.

"And that's a lot of ass to cover," said Brian. Justin shook his hips and began to strip even before he reached the bathroom.

It felt good to stand beneath the water without thinking about anything for a few moments. But it only lasted a few moments as he began to worry about the food and the flowers and their guests and the ten dozen other things they had to think about today. Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts again and endeavored not to think. That's why they had wedding directors, all of those worries and concerns were Mel and Lindsay's responsibility now. Still, he wondered if Nana Rose and Trey had gotten in okay. They were supposed to have left DC that morning, early, and should have already gotten to Pittsburgh by now. He hadn't heard from Xavier but he was sure he would have if something had gone wrong. Nothing had gone wrong. Everything would go perfectly.

Then he heard Gus yell, "No!" and realized that perfection was probably not an attainable goal for them.

Having showered for ten minutes, he cut off the water and wrapped himself in a towel. Walked barefoot back to the bedroom. Brian had stripped down to his undies.

"Leave any hot water?"

"Plenty. Besides, you don’t have a lot of ass to cover," he teased. "Just those long, gorgeous legs," he added.

Brian flashed a bright smile and then raised a brow to Gus who was sitting on the bed and pouting. "Watch him. I told him he couldn't shower with me and I mean it. Mel said he's already had his bath."

"No," Gus said again but this time with less vehemence.

"Behave," Brian warned and he left to shower without him.

"Come on, Gus," Justin said, "and sit with me while I put on some clothes." Then he remembered that he was supposed to put on those lace-up briefs Brian had gotten him. Well, maybe Gus wouldn’t say anything. Besides, even if he did, he probably didn't have the words to describe them accurately. Thank God for his limited two-year-old vocabulary. Just as he was about to drop off his towel and put them on, someone knocked at the door. "Yeah?"

It opened and Joanie poked her head in. "It's me, Justin."

"Nana!" Gus shouted and he ran to her.

"Hey, Gus. Mmmm." She hugged him tight and he kissed her. Justin slipped on his robe and went around to where she stood by the door. She'd put on her makeup but not her dress. Still, she looked so pretty. He could see the resemblance between her and Brian. "I thought I'd come and get Gus for a while."

"Thanks."

"Bye-bye," Gus said as he and Joanie went to play in his room.

"Bye-bye." Closing the door, he returned to the closet and quickly put on his briefs. God, they felt so incredibly indecent, the way the air slipped between the laces and cooled his cheeks. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have a hard-on the entire evening thinking about Brian's tongue traveling the same path. Putting his robe back on, he sat on the bench and dried his hair and waited for Brian to finish bathing.

With a towel in his hands as he rubbed his hair furiously, Brian came into the closet completely naked and Justin had to look down, he was so beautiful. And then he dropped the towel on the floor and slipped on a pair of his 2(x)1st thong underwear and Justin had turned at the sound of the towel dropping and now he couldn't look away. Over the underwear went his sheer, black silk Georgette robe, doing very little but faintly shadowing his skin as it was ninety-nine percent see-through. Before his resolve crumbled entirely, someone else knocked at the door. Leaping to his feet, Justin escaped the closet.

"Hey, Boy Wonder," said Michael, coming in after Justin had stepped aside. "Your Grooms' Attendant has arrived and she's asking for you."

"Thanks." Justin looked him over. The tuxedo Brian had picked out looked good on him. And apparently Mel and Lindsay had found the marked boutonnieres in the box in the dining room because he wore his and was carrying the one for Brian in his hand. "You look nice."

"Thanks."

"Hey, Mikey," called Brian.

"Hey." He walked with Justin to the closet and he and Brian hugged as the younger man gathered his stuff in preparation for carrying it to the guest room. He would dress in there. They'd hung a full-length mirror behind the door for the occasion and put two of the extra chairs from the dining set in there, anticipating that some of the wedding party might need to use the area.

Parting from Michael, Brian leaned over and pecked Justin on the lips. Inhaled deeply. He loved the smell of his Baby when he was fresh from the shower, loved the smell of him anytime. "Later."

"Later."

Daphne was waiting for Justin in the guest room with Molly and Jennifer. She had on her dress, a two-piece affair, simple sleeveless sheath and wide skirt in a shimmering silver fabric, and was in the process of doing her hair. She'd drawn it back into a pony tail, then separated the tail into three sections and braided them. Then she'd formed a bun of the three braids and Jennifer was busy adding the crystal pins to it. A few of the pins were navy, most were clear, but they all shone like fine jewels in velvet. Besides the pins, they'd decorated a hair comb with flowers as well and Jennifer had put that in at the top of the bun.

"Wow, Daphne, you look fabulous."

She blushed. "Thanks."

Justin smiled at Molly. "Look at you, squirt."

"What about me?"

She was wearing the flowered headband they'd decorated for her and a silver dress that matched Daphne's. "You look presentable."

Molly glared at him and the robe he was wearing. "You don't," and she laughed as he tried to fake punch her in the arm.

"You look great too, Mom," he told Jennifer. "Did you do something to your hair?"

"Got it cut." She'd gone and had them cut it and she looked a little like Jennifer Aniston, albeit an older one but no less attractive for it. She checked her watch. "You'd better get moving if you want to be on time for your wedding."

Going into the bathroom, he fixed his hair, leaving his bangs hanging over his forehead the way Brian liked them, and brushed his teeth, and put on his clothes while Jennifer and Daphne and Molly fussed over their outfits and hair even though they had no need to do so.

In the other room, Joanie had put the finishing touches on her outfit and was in the process of dressing Gus. When Justin had gotten his pants and shirt on, he went to see how she was doing with the toddler.

"Knock knock."

"We're decent," she said.

"That's a first in our house," quipped Justin. "You look very pretty," he told her.

"Thank you," she said, touching the back of her neck. "You don’t think it's too tight, do you?" Meaning the dress.

"Not at all. But you can go ask my mom and Daphne if you want. They're just messing around in the other room." Needing another woman's point of view, she left, and Justin sat on Gus' bed and checked out the little man's outfit. "Look at you. You like that?"

"Yeah," he replied. Nana had told him that he looked very handsome. "I want see Daddy."

"I'll call him first and see if he's ready. Okay?" Gus nodded and Justin called Brian on the intercom. "Are you done dressing? Your son wants to see you."

"Are you coming over too?"

"Brian."

"I've already seen you in your tuxedo."

"All right, I'm coming too." He cut off the intercom and went for his vest and jacket. Took his boutonniere from where his mom had lain it and carried it with him. Joanie had put Gus' on and he looked spiffy. Justin barely escaped from the room as all the women wanted to fuss over him and tell him how handsome he looked in his tuxedo. Didn't they realize that Brian was waiting? Finally slipping away while they were examining one of the crystal pins in Daphne's hair, he and Gus took a short trip across the hall and went in to see Brian.

Seeing the two of them together, Brian and Justin in their matching tuxedos and vests, Michael whistled. "Wow. You two are gorgeous."

"Of course, we are," said Brian.

Gus tried to whistle and couldn’t but he did say to Brian and Justin, "Pretty."

"You think we look pretty?" Brian asked him and Gus nodded. "I think you look pretty too. And don't let anyone tell you men can't look pretty. Cause we can and we do. Don't we, Baby?"

Justin blinked and smiled. "Yeah, we do," he admitted.

Since he didn't wear a watch, Brian checked the one over the fireplace. Five o'clock. In another half-hour their guests would start to arrive if they hadn't already. Lindz had buzzed him to tell him that the caterers had taken over the kitchen upon arrival and no one was permitted in there upon orders of Derek and Hansel. If anyone wanted something to drink, they were to get something out of the beverage center in the family room until further notice.

Justin was itching to see if they'd begun setting the tables. "You want to go take a peek? I could use a drink of water."

"All right," Brian said, knowing that if he didn't agree right away, Justin would pester him until he did. "Come on, Gus, we're going downstairs but only for a minute." This for Justin's benefit but the teen had already started for the door. "Wait. Let me put on your boutonniere." So Justin came back and Brian affixed it to his jacket, then waited for him to do the same to his. With a quick kiss, they were ready, Brian holding Gus' hand to keep him from wandering, Justin out in front, and Michael bringing up the rear.

Descending the stairs and stepping down into the reception area, they heard a, "My word!" and knew it was Emmett. "Look at you. Let me look at you." He checked them out from head to toe. "Perfect. You look stunning."

Smiling, Justin said, "Thanks, Em. You and Ted look very handsome."

"Well, Brian wouldn’t let me wear my blue suede shoes so I had to come in these." He was wearing sensible black wingtips. "Think anyone would recognize me? I feel like I'm dressed in drag."

"Don't worry," said Ted. "We'll get you home by twelve so you can turn back into the Rainbow Fairy we all know and love."

"Don’t hate me because I'm fabulous."

Brian and Justin went over and spoke to DJ Twist who had arrived and was setting up in the dining room where he'd hold court for the evening. Since he didn't have to MC the event, he preferred to be in the background, out of the way. Still, he'd be able to see Mel and Lindsay and make sure they were in sync.

Coming out of the family room, Mel and Lindsay gasped and oohed and ahhed over Brian and Justin's tuxes and how handsome they looked and then shooed them back upstairs.

"But I wanted something to drink," Justin protested.

Mel ran back and got three bottles of water. "Here. Now, go before someone sees you."

"None of the guests have arrived," Brian pointed out but it did little to help their case.

"Go," Lindsay ordered them and they went back upstairs, Gus in tow, Michael left behind with the guys.

Of course, by now, the other women were beginning to get tired of being cooped up as well and Daphne, Molly, Jennifer, and Joanie went downstairs too. Which meant only the grooms were left sequestered in their quarters.

"Why is it everyone else can roam around but not us?" Justin complained.

"Tradition," replied Brian and cut on the television for Gus. He was in no mood for cartoon antics. He still hadn't figured out what he was going to say when it came time for him to speak. He was hoping for divine intervention, maybe the gift of tongues. In reality, he figured he'd probably come up with something. He usually did under pressure. But this was different, this was his wedding not some pitch for an account. He had to come through. For Justin. 

 

Arriving in a Ford Bronco, Reverend Ophelia came in carrying her white cassock over her arm which gave them all ample opportunity to see the outfit she was wearing, a dark green Shantung jacket over a long skirt. "So, is everyone ready?" No one dissented. "And where is the happy couple?"

"Upstairs," answered Mel, "staying out of trouble."

"Which is where they should be."

At that moment, the buzzer sounded and Ted got it. "Yeah?"

It was Justin. "Did someone put out the cobalt blue glasses for our toast?"

He relayed the message. "Justin wants to know—"

"We heard him," said Lindsay. "Yes, Justin," she said loud enough for him to hear it, "we put them out. And," she added, "the silver champagne stopper too."

"Okay." He cut the connection.

They all tittered, recognizing nervousness when they heard it.

"They'll be fine," Ophelia told them. "Now, where can I go to put on my cassock and my makeup?"

Michael laughed. "Upstairs. Come on, I'll show you. You never got the grand tour, did you?" he asked as they mounted the staircase.

Just as they went around a curve in the stairs, the doorbell rang again. Ted answered it. "Yes?"

"It's me," said Deb.

He opened the door and let her and Vic in while everyone else held their breaths and hoped that she had done something with her hair, other than stick half a dozen brightly colored ribbons in it. They were all pleasantly surprised to see that she'd limited herself to two sapphire combs which held her hair back from her face. After exchanging pleasantries and comments on one another's outfits, they all stood around wondering what to do next. Joanie had been forbidden by Brian and Justin and Mel and Lindsay to do any more tinkering with the decorations.

"Everything is so beautiful, Joanie," Deb told her.

"I think," Mel announced, "that it's time to cut on the lights. They hadn't noticed but it had begun to get darker outside. With Ted and Emmett and Michael helping them, they went around and cut on all the decorative lights and lit the votives in the fountain and on the cake table and on the mantelpieces and on the tables in the livingroom. As they'd thought, it looked magical almost, as if they'd left Pittsburgh behind and been transported to a winter wonderland in truth.

"I've never seen a wedding look more beautiful," Jennifer told Joanie.

"I hope," she started to say, then swallowed her words.

"Hope what?"

"That Claire doesn't get too upset. We couldn't spend a lot on her wedding and I think she's always resented us for it." Glancing around, she patted her cheek absentmindedly, worried. "I just want everything to go smoothly for them. They've been through so much."

"It will," Jennifer promised.

"Even if I have to sit on Claire," Deb declared. 

 

Twenty minutes later, the wedding party was directed to go up and wait for the ceremony to begin. The first of the guests had arrived.

Of course, it was Claire and her two kids. Taking their coats, Ted and Emmett directed them to the two tables the waiters had set up on either side of the fountain. One table held cinnamon cookies in the shape of snowflakes and the other a silver samovar which dispensed hot apple cider. The smell of the cookies and the spiced cider soon filled the air. Taking only two cookies each, upon strict orders from Claire not to embarrass her, the boys carefully sipped their cider and sat in their seats without causing a ruckus.

Claire, for her part, ogled the beautiful decorations and the parts of the house that she could see from her vantage point. She hadn't believed it when she'd pulled into the yard, that Brian lived in this, this castle. That's what it looked like to her, a fairy tale castle complete with a tower. And to think that Joanie had gone to all the trouble of helping them decorate it for their wedding. Looking around, she felt the anger begin to take hold of her, the anger that she still felt due to the shabby treatment she'd received from her parents when she got married. Jack, she hadn't expected much from, after all, he was a man, but Joanie, Joanie was the one she'd really blamed. After all, a mother ought to know how much a wedding meant to her daughter. Why hadn't she done more for Claire? And then she remembered the things Joanie had said about Jack, about his having pissed away their money and she knew that even if Joanie had wanted to, there probably hadn't been money for a fancy wedding. That they'd had a wedding at all and hadn't had to go to the Justice of the Peace was more than likely due to Joanie wheedling the money out of Jack somehow. And, God knows, there was no point in being angry with Brian. He'd been through hell with his father, been through hell period if half of what Joanie had told her was true. Maybe, maybe he deserved this, to have a beautiful wedding, surrounded by friends. Maybe he was due that. And maybe, if she tried real hard, she could be happy for him and not feel sorry for herself. Resolving to do just that, she smiled and took a sip of the cider. It was delicious.

DJ Twist had put on the Brandenburg Concertos and was busy looking over the rest of his selections for the reception. He had the CD ready for the wedding ceremony, all he had to do was cue it up and pause between pieces.

Now that some other guests had arrived, Deb and Vic sat down, Vic taking his place on the front row close to the fountain and Deb sitting behind him next to Claire and her kids. With Vic busy going over the poems he was going to read for the ceremony, Deb turned to Claire and struck up a conversation. Being a waitress, she could talk to anyone and she actually liked Claire. Well, maybe like was too strong of a word but she didn't dislike her and she'd understood how Claire must have felt growing up with Jack and Joanie. God knows, she had seen first-hand the results of their child rearing methods each and every time Brian had come over to their house and she knew that even if the symptoms weren't the same, Claire had suffered as well. For that reason and because she was trying to mend things with Brian, Deb felt she owed Claire a second chance.

The front door opened again and they heard, "My God, I've died and gone to Dynasty!"

Deb laughed and got up to go greet Rose. They hugged, having met the other time Rose had come to town and with both of them, once you'd met, you weren't strangers anymore. "You look beautiful," Deb told her.

"Girl, go on. So do you." Truthfully, Nana Rose did look beautiful, wearing the jewel-toned scarf Justin had bought her in London wrapped around her dreads and a beautiful amethyst dress that coordinated perfectly with it.

"I love that dress," Lindsay told her.

"Shoes and the purse to match too," she bragged. "Got the whole ensemble on sale at Macy's. I can't imagine why no one had snatched it up before but it's mine now."

Xavier and Trey both had on suits, Xavier's dark grey and Trey's black, Xavier's hair neatly braided and Trey's dreads pulled back and tied at the neck.

Rennie, of course, was in all black except for a ruby pin stuck through her lapel. Her hair matched the color of the pin down to the roots.

Ted showed them to their seats on the side where Molly and Jennifer would sit, not because they were Justin's friends particularly but because they wanted to try and balance out the guests so that each section was relatively full. Spotting the cookies and cider, Nana Rose sent Trey and Xavier over to get her and Rennie a cup and only a couple of cookies since she had to watch her figure.

Before long, most of the guests had arrived. Dr. Drew with a solid-looking blond; Ryder and Liz Ryder-Kelly; Keisha and Cecil, sitting down behind Xavier and his group prompting Nana Rose to ask if this was the black section which cracked everybody up especially Drew since he and his date were sitting in their area too. Daphne's date, Courtney, sat in the last row behind Cecil and munched on his cookies, hoping this would be over soon so he could see Daphne. He wasn't one for weddings but he really liked Daphne. Cynthia and her date took seats next to Ryder and Liz and endeavored to talk about something other than work. It helped that none of them had seen the house before and were duly impressed. Cynthia was to have been invited to brunch at the house in the weeks before the wedding but the guys had been so busy that it never materialized. Still, they all hoped for a tour after the ceremony.

"Well," Mel said to Lindsay. "I think that's it. Jeff's not coming and neither is Kenneth." The photographer had arrived and sat in the back row nearest to the stairwell.

"Still have a few more minutes left, it's only five fifty," said Ted.

"Yeah," Emmett agreed. "They still might come."

"You wanna go check on the grooms? Make sure Brian hasn't fled the country?"

"Mel." Lindsay clucked her tongue. "You couldn’t drag him away from here." Still, she went up to make sure they were all in their places. The end of the Brandenburg Concerto no. 4 was coming and that was the wedding party's cue to line up on the stairs. Em and Ted followed her as they'd be needed to escort the mothers of the grooms.

Mel started towards the DJ to tell him that they'd be starting on time when someone knocked. Startled, she went to answer and found both Jeff and Kenneth at the front door.

Jeff said, "I found him sitting out in his limo pondering the meaning of life."

"You mean," she said, "you couldn't decide if you wanted to come in or not."

"Exactly," said Kenneth.

Mel took their coats and hung them up and took their gifts and placed them on the temporary table they'd set up by the staircase. She and Lindsay would move all of the presents later to the studio. Just as she'd put the presents on the table, Lindsay returned, glowing.

"They're ready."

"So are we." Looking up, she saw Rev. Ophelia start down the stairs and she nodded to the DJ to let him know that he could proceed as planned.

The last few notes of the concerto sounded and there was silence. Then, the "Air" from Water Music began to play and Rev. Ophelia, resplendent in her white cassock, began down the aisle, holding the unlit commitment candle in her hand.

Upstairs Jennifer and Joanie pressed the hands of their sons and took their places. Molly was just about to begin her walk.

Michael borrowed Brian's lighter and lit all of their candles, his hand shaking a little.

"You okay?" Brian asked with a grin and Michael returned it, then got in line next to Daphne and waited for their cue to descend.

Molly was halfway down the aisle when Lindsay handed Gus his real ring pillow, complete with fake rings, and sent him after her. "Walk slowly," she told him and he began.

At first he was distracted a little by the shiny lights and wanted to dawdle and look at them but then he saw Debbie and Rennie and Xavier at the other end of the room and began to walk towards them. Hearing the soft laughter of the adults around him, he laughed too and waved. "Hey," he said to Jeff, whom he remembered, and to Ryder even though he didn't know who they were. Which made the adults laugh even more. Looking back at Lindsay, he giggled and, at her prodding, went forward. Spotting Debbie and Vic, he sang out, "Hey, Debbee! Hey, Vic," and waved at them before reaching Molly and standing next to her. He reached for her hand and held it, happy.

Nana Rose shook her head and chuckled. He was just like Brian.

"Why do I know that was Gus doing something wrong?" asked Brian upstairs as Emmett and Jennifer got into place, Ted and Joanie already having begun their walk.

"Because he's your son," replied Justin. "Which means as wrong as it probably was, it was probably right too."

Daphne glanced around and mouthed, "Good luck" as she and Michael went down to the bottom of the steps.

"Well, just us chickens left," said Brian.

"Who you calling a chicken?" asked Justin with a grin.

Brian kissed him and Justin moved on ahead. It was almost time.

With the ending of the "Air", all of the wedding party except for the grooms had processed and taken their places in front of Rev. Ophelia. All the candles but two were in the candelabra. The music faded away. Brian stepped off the bottom of the stair and stood next to Justin. They held hands and smiled softly. The wait was over.

Rev. Ophelia motioned for the congregation to stand.

The French horns sounded a blast and the two grooms began to walk forward. Pausing by the front doors, they continued down the aisle, hand in hand, lit candles held before them. All around them smiling faces wished them well and they basked in the good will of their family and friends. At some point, Brian's longer stride took him a step in front of Justin and he hesitated an instant until Justin had caught up and then shortened his stride so that they walked side-by-side. The maneuver hadn't gone unnoticed and many of their guests' smiles widened and they chuckled softly. Finally, they reached the ceremony area and Rev. Ophelia stepped aside to let them put their candles in the holder on either side of the commitment candle. Candles secure, they took their place in front of her. The music continued for a few moments, then there was silence.

Rev. Ophelia opened her Bible although she didn't need to look at her notes. She'd been an actress in college before turning to the ministry so she could memorize an entire play in a few weeks, a couple pages of text was nothing. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God and this congregation, to join together these two in holy matrimony. Marriage is a holy sacrament, a covenant between two people and is therefore not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, and in awe of God. Brian and Justin, you have signified your desire to enter into the holy state of marriage. If any person knows of any impediment why you may not be married, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Justin thought that there were at least three people in the audience who might speak up but it was too late now, because even if they did, there was nothing they could do to destroy their love, it was that complete.

Giving the matter the moment it deserved, Ophelia continued. "Let us pray." Some members of the congregation bowed their heads, others, such as Brian, looked straight ahead as if wanting to face everything, even their maker, with eyes open and head held high. "Almighty and everlasting God, through which all things are possible: grant unto us purity of heart and strength of purpose, so that no selfish passion may hinder us from knowing your will, and no weakness from doing it; that in your light we may see light, and in your service find perfect freedom through Jesus Christ our Lord. Be present at this hour and grant that what is said and done in this place may be blessed, both now and forevermore. Amen."

"Amen," murmured the congregation, no few of them crossing themselves.

"Marriage," began Rev. Ophelia, "is a commitment to life, to the life that is engendered as two individuals come together and swear their commitment to a partnership that lasts a lifetime.

"Marriage deepens and enriches every facet of life. The joy that you feel increases; the passion intensifies;" a few smiles at this as definitely Brian and Justin had their share of passionate moments, some of them publicly witnessed, "and even anger is felt more keenly, yet passes away more easily." Again, their friends smiled as they'd also witnessed more than one knock-down, drag-out fight between the two grooms and yet they'd always managed to put aside their anger and find a way back to one another.

"Marriage understands and forgives the mistakes life is unable to avoid. It encourages and nurtures new life, new experiences, and new ways of expressing love through the seasons of life.

"When two people pledge to love and care for each other in marriage, they create a spirit unique to themselves, which binds them closer than any spoken or written words. Marriage is a promise, a potential, made in the hearts of two people who love, which takes a lifetime to fulfill." Although she'd made some changes, she still loved the basic text of Edmund O'Neill's "Marriage is a Promise of Love" and used it in most of the commitment ceremonies she performed. It seemed to sum up all of the things she wanted to say about marriage and in language people understood and related to without a lot of thou shall and thou shall not. Letting hers and O'Neill's words sink in for a moment, she announced the reading of the poetry.

"At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet."

Lindsay came forward and Vic stood and joined her in front of the fountain. The cater waiters had come and taken the cookies and apple cider away before the procession had begun. Clearing her throat silently, Lindsay spoke first.

_"…in my mind you're a clock_  
And I'm the second hand sweeping  
around you sixty times an hour  
twenty-four hours a day  
three hundred sixty-five days a year  
and an extra day  
in leap year  
cause that's the way  
that's the way  
that's the way i feel about you." 

Channeling the spirit of Nikki Giovanni, Lindsay put a little soul into the last few lines and Nana Rose said, "Yes, Lord!" just the way she did in church and shook her head. That's the way love was supposed to be.

Vic's poem was also humorous and just as true.

_"I wanted you. I fought you_  
for yourself, I wrestled  
to open you, I hung on.  
I sat on my love as on the lid  
of a chest holding a hungry bear.  
You were what I wanted: you  
still are. …" 

Almost everyone present knew the story of Brian and Justin's tumultuous courtship and recognized Justin's sentiments in the poem. He certainly had fought hard enough for Brian.

The next poem was also read by Vic and as he spoke, the rich tones of his voice were like ocean waves.

_"How did you know I'd been traveling_  
in circles, gone so long there was no one  
left to fetch me? Gone so long avoiding  
the water you seemed a sort of mirage  
until I drank you. Let alone this ocean  
wild with sirens, a raft in a whirlpool  
for our bed, spinning at anchor, drownproof.  
As to rank, if it's okay I'll be a pirate.  
You be captain—so long as you show me how  
to navigate a dream that goes this deep. …" 

A smile spread across Justin's face. In some ways, in some things, he did lead and Brian did follow and neither seemed to mind; it was as it should be.

Lindsay read the last poem in a strong voice that spoke for both lovers, for all lovers wherever they might be.

_"My true love hath my heart and I have his._  
By just exchange one for the other given.  
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,  
There never was a better bargain driven.  
My true love hath my heart and I have his.  
His heart in me keeps me and him in one,  
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:  
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,  
I cherish his because in me it bides.  
My true love hath my heart and I have his." 

The poems read, Vic and Lindsay returned to their places amid many head nods and smiles and the first musical selection began. Brian tightened his grip on Justin's hand and the younger man looked up at his lover. I mean it all, his hazel eyes seemed to say and Justin moved closer to him, declaring his intent without words.

_"Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:_  
Such a Joy, as none can move:  
Such a Love, as none can part:  
Such a Heart, as joys in love." 

Deb dabbed at her eyes. Christ, they hadn't even gotten to the vows yet and she was already tearing up. She sure hoped the waterproof mascara she'd gotten was tear-proof too.

"Let us pray," said Ophelia and she caught Brian's eye. He smiled and lowered his head. "Almighty God, we ask your blessing to be with Brian and Justin as they now make their wedding vows. Draw them closer to you and help them to grow together in love and commitment to each other from this time forth, and forevermore. Amen."

"Amen," Joanie said with fervor. _Let them be happy,_ she asked and crossed herself.

Addressing Brian, Ophelia asked, "Brian, will you have Justin to be your wedded partner, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor him and keep him, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others remain loyal to him as long as you both shall live?"

Brian parted his lips. "I will."

"And will you, Justin, have Brian to be your wedded partner, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor him and keep him, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others remain loyal to him as long as you both shall live?"

He nodded. Heard Daphne give a little giggle. "I will."

Widening her gaze to include both mothers, Ophelia asked, "Joan and Jennifer, as Brian and Justin join their lives in marriage, they also bring you together in a new relationship, creating new bonds of trust and ties of affection. Will you give them your love, your blessing, and your support? If so, will you please show them your support by saying 'We will'?"

The two women said in unison, "We will."

"Will the congregation please stand." She waited until all had. "Friends, Brian and Justin have invited you here because you are important people in their lives. Your love and support will be important always. Will all of you, by God's Grace, do everything in your power to preserve this marriage? Will you give them your love, your blessing, and your support? If so, will you please show them your support by saying 'We will'?"

"We will," came the answer as one voice comprised of many voices.

"You may be seated." Joanie, Jennifer, and Molly sat as well with the congregation. Now, only the grooms, Gus, and their attendants remained standing before Ophelia. " 'Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to dance. They awaken us to the understanding with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful just to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leaving footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.' At this time, our grooms will speak the vows that they have written themselves," and she looked directly at Brian.

His heart felt as if it were going to burst from his chest and he took a deep breath. This was no time for an Alien impression. Now was the time for that miracle he'd been hoping for. Aware of Justin's eyes on him, he turned towards the congregation and opened his mouth… and began to speak. "Most of you, if not all of you, know how Justin and I met. Some of you were there. We met on the night my son, Gus, was born and I should have known something was up but I have to admit that I was a little under the influence at the time so I kinda missed its significance." Michael laughed as did Em and Ted and no small number of their guests. "I had no intention of being in a relationship, no intention of falling in love; I didn't even want a boyfriend. I didn't believe in love. So I said." He paused, thinking of Cam, and the hurt, finally, dissipated. It was gone, as if it had never been there. His eyes widened, wondering at the sensation. "But Justin didn't listen to me. He had every intention of being in a relationship, of falling in love, and he wanted a boyfriend. He wanted me." Shook his head. "I don't know why but he did. And he wouldn't go away. No matter how many times I told him to, he just kept hanging on, kept coming around, kept staying in my face until I couldn't remember what my life had been like without him. But I didn't tell him that." Again laughter. "Because… I was scared." There, it was out in the open, the Great Brian Kinney had been afraid. "I had gotten my heart broken once and I didn't intend to have it happen again. I guess I might have gone on protesting that I didn't want or need him if he hadn't… if he hadn't gotten hurt." Even now, it caused his breath to catch, knowing how close he'd come to losing Justin. "I thought I had lost him. And I didn't know what I would do if I did. And I hated myself for not…" a breath, "for not having told him that I loved him. But he lived. He didn't leave me behind and I—I swore that I would tell him how much he meant to me and I did. And for some strange reason he didn't tell me to fuck off." Joanie caught her breath and shook her head. He'd never change. "And here we are. I'd like to say that it's been smooth sailing between then and now," lots of laughter, "but you all know me and you know Justin so you know that's not true. And I'd like to say that we won't have any more arguments or fights or problems but that's not true either. All I can say is that I've never known anyone who challenges me more than Justin does. To be a good friend, a good father, a good son, a good person period. And I've never known anyone who's made me angrier or happier than Justin. He gives me hope, gives me strength, and he gives me his love. He makes my life brighter, more exciting, and fuller than I've ever thought it could be. And I love him. I can't always promise to do the right things, because I won't," he said with a little laugh, "but I do promise to always try to listen to what he has to say, and to try to understand what he needs from me; to try to do the best for him, to give him my best, because he deserves it. He deserves everything that I have because I can't live without him. Without him, there's nothing, because he means everything to me." Looking back at Justin, a tear rolling down his cheek, he smiled and Justin returned his smile and wiped away the tear, ignoring the tears that streaked his own face.

Amidst the numerous sniffles in the room, Justin admitted, "I've forgotten what I was going to say," and they all laughed, grateful for the chance. "Brian told you how we met and how I wouldn't leave him alone and he said that he didn't know why. So I'll tell you why. Because every time I looked at him, I saw something that I wanted. At first, I admit it, I wanted him because he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He still is. I wanted him because when he touched me, I felt alive. Because when he touched me, he wasn't just touching my face or my body, he touched my heart. Even though he kept telling me he didn't want me and he didn't need me, I could feel him inside me telling me that he did want me, that he did need me. And I fought hard to get him. I fought him, I fought his friends, his family, my family, even myself and the world to have him. There were times when I'd go home and cry because I didn't know what to do, what to say to make him understand that I could be that one person who could change his mind about love, who could change his life the way he'd changed mine. Sometimes I didn't think that I could hold on long enough for him to see me, to see how much I loved him. But I did… because he met me halfway. Because he took a chance on me, even though I was just a kid who didn't know anything except that I loved him. I'm still not all grown up yet," and everyone laughed, "but if he'll have me as I am, I promise… to try and become the man that he needs me to be, a man that he can depend on, that he can trust, who'll be worthy of his trust, and his love. He loves so much, gives so much, it makes me ashamed of how little I have to give him. All I have is me. And all I know is that I love him. I love him. I love him," he said again and Brian drew him to his chest and held him. Held him so tightly that he knew it was okay, that Brian had told the truth when he said that he was everything to him. They parted and Brian brushed away his tears and kissed him on the cheek. Their foreheads touched and he smiled, his blue eyes shining.

No one was left dry-eyed after they'd spoken, not even the photographer, who thumbed away a tear and pretended to fiddle with his camera. Mel and Lindsay had sat down in the last row and they held hands and were glad that they too had found the love of their lives.

Rev. Ophelia dabbed at her eyes. "Well, now I've forgotten what I was going to say," and everyone chuckled. "Luckily, I've got it written down. ' Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts. ' Brian, repeat after me. I take you, Justin."

"I take you, Justin."

"To be my partner."

"To be my partner."

"And these things I promise you."

"And these things I promise you."

"I will be faithful to you and honest with you. I will respect, trust, help, and care for you. I will share my life with you…"

And so on until he'd completed his vow. Then Justin did the same.

"I will forgive you as we have been forgiven. And I will try with you to better understand ourselves and the world through the best and worst of what is to come, until death parts us."

"May I have the rings."

Brian turned to Michael, who had both the rings in his pocket as Daphne didn't have anyplace to put one, but Gus spoke up. "Here, Daddy," and he held up the pillow with the two fake rings on it. Smiling as the congregation laughed, Brian took the pillow and, turning slightly away from Gus, flipped it over and returned it to the toddler.

"Thank you. You can go sit with Nana now." His job completed, Gus sat happily next to his grandmother. Michael slipped Brian the two real rings and he handed them to Rev. Ophelia.

"The perfect circle of a ring symbolizes purity and eternity. As you give these rings to each other, our prayer is that your love will be the same, pure and eternal. May the Lord God bless these rings, symbols of your marriage. Brian, take this ring and place it upon Justin's finger and say to him, 'I give you this ring, that you may wear it, as a symbol of the vows we have made this day'."

"I give you this ring, that you may wear it, as a symbol of the vows we have made this day," said Brian and he slipped the ring upon Justin's finger.

"Justin, take this ring and place it upon Brian's finger and say to him, 'I give you this ring, that you may wear it, as a symbol of the vows we have made this day'."

Voice trembling a little, he did so. "I give you this ring, that you may wear it, as a symbol of the vows we have made this day."

Now was the time to light the commitment candle. Ophelia explained to the congregation, "Two candles were placed in the holder representing Brian and Justin's families, two representing their friends, and two representing themselves. Now Brian and Justin will light the commitment candle to symbolize the union of their lives. From now on their thoughts shall be for each other, and joys and sorrows shall be shared alike. ' Two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.' Yet, by allowing the flame of their two separate candles to remain lit, they also accept the individuality of one another as a means of fulfilling their oneness."

As she stepped to the side and Brian and Justin approached the candelabra, a smoky voice filled the air.

_"Make of our hands one hand,_  
Make of our hearts one heart,  
Make of our vows one last vow:  
Only death will part us now. 

_Make of our lives one life,  
Day after day, one life._

_Now it begins, now we start_  
One hand, one heart;  
Even death won't part us now." 

When the song ended, Ophelia nodded to Brian and he and Justin went over to Debbie and he removed from inside his coat pocket the corsage he'd taken from Justin. Handing it to her, he kissed her cheek and said, "Thank you. We wouldn't have made it this far without you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you."

"Thanks, Deb," said Justin and he kissed her as well and the tears flowed down her cheeks soaking her hanky.

Moving back to their places, they waited for Rev. Ophelia to begin again. "Brian Andrew Kinney and Justin Matthew Taylor, in God's presence and before this company, you have made your promises to each other to be helpful and faithful in your life together.

_"Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other._  
Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth for the other.  
Now there is no more loneliness.  
Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you.  
May your days together be good and long upon the earth. 

"In as much as you have pledged your love to one another by the speaking of vows, the exchange of rings, and the lighting of the commitment candle, I now declare you to be lifelong partners, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. You may kiss your partner."

Smiling, Brian leaned forward and kissed his partner, holding the younger man's face in his hands, then sliding them around his shoulders to embrace him. After a moment they kissed again and parted.

"Let us pray. Eternal God, without your grace no promise is sure. Strengthen Brian and Justin with the gift of your Spirit, so they may fulfill the vows they have taken. Keep them faithful to each other and fill them with such love and joy that they may build a home where no one is a stranger. Amen."

"Amen."

"And now unto you, and all who are present, may this blessing come upon you, that you be in love, grow in love, stand in love, and act by love, through the God of love, both now and forevermore. Amen."

"Amen."

"Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, "it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you, Mr. Brian Andrew Kinney and Mr. Justin Matthew Taylor," slight pause, "Kinney."

As the congregation stood and applauded them, and as the sounds of Gloria swelled, Brian bowed his head and said, "Are you sure?"

"Happy Wedding Day," said Justin, and he wrapped his arms around his partner and kissed him soundly.

The music was very nearly drowned out by the cheering and cat calls and whistles as the two partners kissed, oblivious to everything but one another.

Emmett and Ted leapt up and began showering the two grooms with pieces of confetti.

When the piece ended, Mel took the mic from DJ Twist and gave everyone instructions for the receiving line and dinner. "Okay, everybody, listen up. Will everyone in the wedding party please get in place for the receiving line. If the guests would please pass through the line and into the livingroom where the tables are set up, Lindsay will be there to direct you to your table. Please wait until she seats you. At that time, appetizers and drinks will be served until the wedding party has completed the receiving line and taken a few hundred photos. Dinner will start in approximately a half hour. Thanks."

Brian shook the confetti from his hair and caught a piece in his hand. Something was on it. He frowned and tried to read it. "What is this?" he asked Emmett.

"The names of some of the guys you've tricked with at Babylon."

Ted explained, "When they read that you were getting married, they wanted to do something to show their appreciation. So they wrote their names on slips of paper and we decided to make confetti out of it."

Handing the microphone back to the DJ, Mel went to herd the guests towards the front of the room. Twist moved his rig back further into the dining room so that the waiters could get by him and put on Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" to get things moving along. Who would have thought it? Brian Kinney actually had a soft side. If he could change, then there was hope for all the playas. Maybe even Tony who swore he was not "into commitment". Twist smiled. Wait until he told Tony about this…

After hugging all of the wedding party, with an extra big hug for Gus who had done so well, Debbie came to the beaming grooms. "You two, look at me. Four bucks for freakin' mascara and the eyeliner runs. I look like a giant, blue raccoon."

"You look beautiful, Deb," Justin told her and he hugged her.

Brian held her at arm's length. "You look like a beautiful, blue raccoon," and he laughed and hugged her as well as she mumbled.

"Asshole. You didn't give me a pin with this thing," she said, showing him her corsage.

"Didn't want you to poke yourself with it."

"Only way I am gonna get poked these days," she joked and they laughed.

Vic came up along beside her. "Me too."

Hugging him, Justin complimented his reading. "You were great, Vic."

"Maybe I should have gone on the stage," he replied with a flourish. "Victor/Victoria."

Excited by the lights and the people yet a little bored too cause he was so small and the big people blocked his view, Gus played with his pillow and began turning it over in his hands. There. There were the rings he gave to Daddy. How'd they get back on the pillow? He frowned, then looked for Brian. "Daddy?" Got out of the line before anyone could grab him and found Brian. "Look, Daddy. Ring."

Brian squatted and took the pillow from him. "Wow. Magic."

"Brian," scolded Justin, "don't tell him that."

So Brian showed Gus his ring. "See? Here's Daddy's ring. And Daddy Justin has his on too. These were extras, okay? In case we lost ours. So they were very important. Just like you," and he kissed the toddler and made him giggle by tickling him a little. "Now, go back and stand next to Molly."

"Stay here."

"You want to stay with me and Daddy Justin?"

"Yeah."

Brian looked over at Justin who shrugged. "Let him stay."

"All right, stand here between us."

Satisfied now that he'd gotten to stay, Gus went back to playing with his pillow.

By the time Gus had settled down again, Claire and the boys came through the line. When she got to Justin, she held out her hand and shook his. "Congratulations. It was a beautiful ceremony."

"Thank you for coming," Justin replied.

Then she laughed. "Daddy would have had a heart attack when Rev. Ophelia introduced you as Justin Taylor-Kinney."

"Would have saved him from dying of cancer," Brian joked and she punched him in the arm and laughed anyway as she hugged him. It was the first time in years that they had embraced one another and it felt good. "I'm glad you came, Sis."

"Me too." She looked down at the toddler standing between Brian and Justin. She'd watched him as he walked down the aisle and could remember when Brian had been that small even though she was only a few years older. He looked so much like Brian and for a moment, she felt disoriented and looked around for her younger self. Time, it seemed, had become disjointed. She wouldn't have been surprised to see Jack coming up behind her.

Brian placed his hands on Gus' head and said to him, "Gus, do you know who this is?" The toddler shook his head. "This is your Aunt Claire. Daddy's sister." Gus stared at her, he knew what sister meant, Molly was Daddy Justin's sister and she looked like him so he studied Claire to see if she looked like Daddy. They both had brown hair even though Daddy's hair was prettier. Maybe that was enough.

"Hey," he said, after he'd finished taking her in. With Daddy to protect him, he was rarely shy around people anymore.

She squatted. "Hi. What's your name?"

"Gus." He pointed to the boys who seemed to be with her. "Who dat?"

"That's Peter and John, your cousins."

Gus looked up at Brian for an explanation. "They're Aunt Claire's little boys. Just like you're my little boy."

He waved. "Hey."

Peter said, "He looks like Uncle Brian."

"How come he doesn't look like Justin?" asked John.

"Cause he's not Justin's kid, doofus," replied his older brother.

"But they're married. And you said they were doing it."

Claire stood and turned to the boys who were just about to either start fighting or quizzing Justin again. "Come on." They followed in her wake as she went in search of their table.

"Madam," Emmett said to Nana Rose, "that is a fabulous scarf."

"The grooms gave it to me for Christmas. Got it from London, you know. One of a kind."

"A unique gift for a unique lady."

She laughed. "Are you flirting with me?"

"No, it's just that a queen recognizes a queen," he replied and she slapped him on the arm, laughing.

"You are something else."

"That's what we keep telling him," Ted said, "although we haven't figured out just what it is yet."

When she got to Justin, Nana Rose hugged him long and hard. "Oo, I could just eat you two up," she said after hugging Brian as well.

"Leave some for me," Justin told her with a smile.

"I bet you've had plenty already."

"Nana Rose!" That was Xavier, coming up behind her.

"We'll talk later," she whispered confidentially and moved on to let Xavier and the rest of the kids speak with them.

"J, that was da bomb," Xavier said as he and Justin briefly hugged.

"I'm glad you came. You and Trey," he said taking Trey's hand.

Trey grinned. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, seeing you safely married," and Xavier smiled and pulled him on, the two of them nodding to Brian.

"Congratulations," Xavier and Trey said as they passed by him.

"Thanks," he replied and then, "Oomph," as Rennie grabbed him in a big bear hug. "That's some grip."

She parted from him and said, "I've been waiting for two weeks for the big, wet one Justin promised me and, no, I do not want to kiss the Boy Wonder."

So Brian took her in his arms, dipped her, and gave her a big, wet kiss on the lips. When he brought her up again and let her go, she stumbled off in a daze. "Bye-bye."

"What did you do to her?" Justin asked.

"Slipped her a little tongue." Flicked it. "She did a great job on the ceiling."

"Remind me to keep you away from the photographer."

Speaking of the photographer, he was waiting patiently at the edge of the room by the fountain as the rest of the guests passed by the wedding party shaking hands and exchanging hugs and kisses until finally the last person went through. Kenneth.

Giving Justin his best, Kenneth stood in front of Brian, speechless as it would seem.

But Brian found his voice. "I'm glad you came." There was more to say but it could wait until later.

"Justin," Kenneth said to him, "do you mind if I hugged your groom?"

"I don't mind," he replied, watching as Harris embraced Brian and kissed him chastely on the cheek. He wasn't the only one. Dr. Drew had turned from his position just inside the livingroom and had observed the entire exchange.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

Kenneth went into the livingroom with the rest of the guests leaving the wedding party and the photographer alone. Mel came forward. "Okay, let's take some pictures. We're right on schedule as far as time goes." It was around seven o'clock. "Fifteen minutes for pictures and then we can start dinner." She nodded to the photographer who took over.

For the next ten minutes he arranged the wedding party into dozens of groups, taking a myriad of pictures until at last he released the other members of the party, keeping only Brian and Justin. Posing them by the candelabra, the fountain, the staircase, and all over the room by silver trees and blankets of snow, he took a dozen shots of them alone until he finally announced that he was through.

Justin shook hands with him. "Thanks, Jase."

"No problem. Sweet house."

"Yeah."

"So how much are you paying me again?"

"Go have some food," Brian told him.

He demurred. "That's okay. I gotta go."

"There's cake later on," said Justin, hoping to tempt him.

"Nah, I really gotta hit the road. Hot date in about an hour. Listen, I'll get the pictures to you in a couple days." Waving, he split.

"Speaking of cake, where is it?"

"Gaia's in the kitchen, waiting for dinner to start before she puts it out," Mel told him, "so go on," and she hurried them into the livingroom, where a fire roared in the hearth, and dinner officially began with a round of applause for the gorgeous grooms and the tinkling of silver bells encouraging them to kiss. Which they did, never needing any encouragement at all.

As they took their seats, DJ Twist faded out the Beethoven and the singer who had performed "One Hand, One Heart" began to sing of her romance.

_"My romance doesn't have to have a moon in the sky_  
My romance doesn't need a blue lagoon standing by  
No month of May, no twinkling stars  
No hide away, oh, but I must have one soft guitar  
My romance doesn't need a castle rising in Spain  
Or a dance to a constantly surprising refrain  
Wide awake I can make my most fantastic dreams come true  
My romance doesn't need one thing but you" 

With the last note of the guitar, Miss Etta James began extolling the joy of finally finding that one special person.

_"At last my love has come along_  
My lonely days are over  
And life is like a song…" 

The waiters brought out the rest of the appetizers, for which Brian and Justin were very happy as they hadn't eaten anything substantial since breakfast, not counting their aborted attempt at having lunch. Not a big fan of brie since Mikey and Dave's homecoming party, Justin was glad to see that there were a couple of arugula and bacon quiches left as Brian didn’t really care for brie or goat cheese. As he dug in, Justin decided that Brian was right to have moved the toasts to after dinner. He didn't think he could have waited any longer to eat. He'd felt faint a couple of times standing up front but figured it might have been nervousness too. But, strange thing was, after a while, he hadn't been conscious of being nervous. Even though his hands had shaken, he'd felt calm inside because he and Brian were together. Watching his partner eat, Justin smiled. He still couldn't believe Brian had said all those things about him. He would never forget it. None of it. They hadn't wanted to videotape the service so there was no record of what had been said except in his heart. Which was as it should be. The pictures were enough. They'd serve when memory dimmed and threatened to fade although he knew that all he'd have to do was to look in Brian's eyes and he'd remember.

"Thought you were starving?" Brian asked him when he noticed that Justin had stopped eating and was looking at him instead.

"I am. Guess I'll just have to wait until they leave."

Pursing his lips, Brian lifted a brow. "Someone's feeling frisky. Must be the briefs."

"Must be the company." Both fell silent and Brian reached for Justin's hand and stroked his fingers.

_" You smile, you smile_  
Oh and then the spell was cast  
And here we are in heaven  
For you are mine at last" 

Their quiet moment of seduction was interrupted by an eruption at Nana Rose's table. Lindsay had seated Keisha and Cecil with them and they were getting along famously although she had worried that maybe it would look racist, that all the African-Americans at the party except for Daphne were seated at the same table. Still, they got along famously, Keisha and Nana Rose talking within minutes as if they were old friends. They weren't the only ones laughing though. Even Joanie and Jennifer were having fun at their table and they were sitting with Claire and her brood. But, for once, Claire seemed to be enjoying herself.

 _Maybe,_ thought Brian, _she yanked that stick out of her butt_. He chuckled silently and smiled when Justin looked at him quizzically.

Lindz had seated Kenneth at the table with her and Mel, Gus and Rev. Ophelia, and Deb and Vic and the two men had struck up a conversation which made Justin happy as Vic didn't always seem to fit in with the rest of the guys by virtue of his being older. And sick. Kenneth wasn't quite his age and he wasn’t sick but he was in his forties and knew a lot about pharmaceuticals and had traveled to Italy as had Vic, so they had topics enough to keep them conversing for a while.

Dr. Drew and Cynthia had their heads together which worried Brian a little. There were two people he didn't ever want getting together to compare notes on him. Cynthia had dirt that went back years and Dr. Drew was always digging. Brian really wished they'd pay more attention to their dates than to one another. Then again, looking at their dates and the way they sat stiffly in their seats, no wonder Drew and Cynthia had turned to each other.

At the wedding party table, Daphne and her date were busy making goo-goo eyes at one another, having succumbed to wedding fever, if only temporarily and even Jeff and Mikey seemed to be enjoying themselves. Brian wondered how Jeff's job interview had gone and if he'd be leaving soon. But then the waiters brought out their salads and he turned his mind to eating.

Or he would have if Justin hadn't picked that moment to lean into him and draw his head down for a kiss.

"What was that for?" No one had rang any bells as far as he could tell.

The younger man shook his head and returned to eating. But Brian sat and watched him and was content.

_"The very thought of you_  
And I forget to do  
The little ordinary things  
Two people ought to do…" 

Suddenly Justin laughed.

"What?"

"I can't believe you said fuck off during the ceremony."

"Why can't you believe it?" And Justin chuckled because Brian was right. It was exactly the kind of thing he would have done. No matter the circumstance or occasion, Brian remained Brian.

Taking Brian's hand, Justin brushed his fingers over his partner's ring. "It's okay, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That I want to change my name. You don't mind, do you?"

With a slight smile, Brian replied, "I don’t mind." He cocked his head. "You think I should do the same?"

"Would you?"

"I don't think Brian Kinney Taylor has the same ring as Justin Taylor Kinney."

Justin wrinkled his nose. "It doesn't," he admitted. "It's okay. I like your name just the way it is. Besides, even if I'm the only one who does it, it still says we're together."

Raising his hand and kissing his fingers, Brian said, "Not just together. Married."

_"This isn't sometimes, this is always_  
This isn't maybe, this is always  
This is love  
The real beginning of forever" 

Justin listened to the words of the song, it was one of his favorite from the Bridges of Madison County soundtrack Sebastian had left him when he died. "Do you think that's true?"

"What?"

"This is always?"

"I hope so. I'm getting too old to train another twinkie."

"Uh!" Justin rolled his eyes and tried to pull his hand away but Brian held it tight and kissed his fingers again before Justin freed them and stroked his face.

Lindsay leaned over and said to Mel, "Look at them. I've never seen Brian happier."

"It's amazing, the asshole actually came through." Then remembering Rev. Ophelia was sitting with them, said, "Sorry."

"I'm a big fan of dickhead myself."

At that moment, Gus turned to see where they were looking and seemed to remember that his daddies were in the room and he wasn't with them. He tried to get out of his chair but Lindsay caught him.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Daddy."

"No, Daddy and Daddy Justin need to be alone for a while. Okay?"

"I want sit Daddy."

"You can see Daddy later and talk to him. Okay?"

Pouting, he stayed in his chair.

Kenneth smiled. "He looks exactly like Brian."

"And has the temper to match too," Mel said.

Rev. Ophelia chuckled. "He seemed pretty cowed the two times he and Justin came to see me."

"I think Justin's the only one who can keep him under control," she told them and noticed Kenneth looking wistfully towards their table.

Just then three waiters descended upon the room to begin serving dinner. They'd gone around earlier and taken everyone's orders and gone back to the kitchen to make sure the room survey matched the earlier list they'd gotten from Cynthia. Now, they returned with the meals.

Waiting for her salmon to arrive, Nana Rose gazed around the room once more, taking in the beautiful French windows and doors, the marbled fireplace. She couldn't wait to take a tour of the rest of the house. To Keisha she said, "I just can't believe this place. It's like something out of the soaps. I keep waiting for Erica Kane to show up and marry someone."

"It's pretty impressive. Then again, so are they."

"They think a lot of you too. Xavier says they call you Mace."

She laughed. "It's the braids." With them, she did look a lot like the character Angela Bassett played in Strange Days.

"And cause you kick ass," Xavier added from across the table, then went back to his conversation with Rennie and Trey.

"The first time I met them, I knew it wasn't going to be just another case and I wanted to do the best I could to help them, no matter what."

"I hardly saw her during that case," Cecil complained.

Nana Rose checked him over then asked Keisha, "Girl, are you crazy? Fine man like that?"

"I knew he'd still be around when I was done," she said and Cecil laughed because he knew that it was true. He was still around and had no intention of going anywhere. Maybe one day they'd be holding court from a bridal table of their own.

Jennifer thanked the waiter for her meal, then said to Joanie, "Everything's going so well."

"I'll be happy when it's over," she confessed. "I've been nervous all afternoon, thinking something's going to go wrong."

"It's perfect. You did a wonderful job."

Claire caught her mother's eye. "It was really beautiful. The things Brian… and Justin said to one another." She paused. "If Bobby and I had loved each other like that, it wouldn't have mattered what kind of wedding we had."

"Well," said Jennifer, "it's never too late."

"You ever think about getting remarried?" asked Joanie.

"Oh, all the time. And then I remember why I got divorced. Best hundred and seventy pounds I ever lost." She laughed as did Claire.

Justin watched his mom and Claire laugh. "I wonder what they're laughing at?"

"I don't know cause they haven't brought out the booze yet."

_"Chances are 'cause I wear a silly grin_  
The moment you come into view  
Chances are you think that I'm in love with you…" 

"So what happened in NY?" Michael asked Jeff during a moment when the others seemed to be deep in conversation and not paying any attention to what they were saying.

"I met with a lot of people who seemed to be genuinely impressed with my work," Jeff replied.

He nodded. "I know this is a huge opportunity for you. And I would never ask you…" Michael paused and looked down at his hands for a moment. "I don't want you to go." Looked up again, his eyes shining. "I love you and I want you to stay."

"Not a lot of Native American broadcasters out there."

"There's one in Pittsburgh and he's the only one I care about."

Jeff's eyes twinkled. "You said loved before."

"Okay," smiled Mikey, "the only one I love." He waited, wondering what Jeff would say.

"I told them I'd take it." Michael's shoulders slumped and Emmett and Ted tried to pretend not to have heard Jeff's pronouncement. "On the provision that I stayed in the area." Michael held his breath, he didn't dare hope. "And they said yes."

"Yeah?"

"I'll be flying a lot, probably won't be home more than a few days a week but—"

"I don't care. I'll take what I can get." He threw his arms around Jeff's neck and they kissed.

"You sure this is what you want?" Jeff asked as they parted.

"I'm sure."

_"I love all, the many charms about you  
Above all, I want my arms about you_

_Don't you be a naughty baby_  
Come to papa, come to papa do  
My sweet embraceable you…" 

"Are you my naughty Baby?" Brian asked Justin.

"Ask me that later," he said and blushed as the waiter placed his Chicken Calabrese on the table. It was obvious the man had heard their exchange as he was fighting back a smile.

Preparing to cut into his veal, Brian chuckled. That was his Baby.

The food was delicious, Derek and Hansel had outdone themselves. The veal was tender, the chicken succulent, the salmon moist and flaky, and the ravioli was, in Rennie's words, magnifico. Who would have ever thought that two former male models would know anything about food? Especially food that seduced you with tantalizing aromas, eye pleasing presentations, and subtle flavor combinations. For a while everyone was all silent, too busy enjoying their meals to talk. Then, out of the silence, came a voice:

"I want burga."

Brian almost spit out his veal. He began to laugh and laughed until tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes and, having been given permission by his laughing, the other guests did as well. Gus escaped from his chair and ran to his daddy. "You want a burger?" he asked the toddler and Gus nodded.

"Cheeburga."

Catching the attention of one of the waiters, Brian called him over and said, "Could you fix him a cheeseburger? We've got patties in the freezer."

Justin was horrified. "Brian…"

"No problem, sir." The man smiled and returned to the kitchen to put in Gus' order.

"Happy?" Brian asked his son.

"Yeah." Gus laid against his daddy and waited for them to bring his burger. 

 

With dinner over and everyone, including Gus, very pleased with their meals, they moved the celebration to the reception hall which had been cleared of chairs (some of which had ended up in the studio) and of the candelabra which had been moved to the studio where the cake was now set up along with a table lined with flutes and a pyramid of glasses into which on most occasions champagne would be poured. Brian had thought it would be a little tacky and a waste of good champagne but Justin had wanted to do it so they compromised. It was a small pyramid, and they'd agreed to use a bottle of sparkling grape juice instead of real champagne.

Having moved his rig back out so that he could observe the guests, DJ Twist, with a cue from Lindsay, took over MC duties for the moment and announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the grooms' first dance."

The wedding guests moved to the sides of the room and Brian and Justin assumed their position in the middle of the floor, Justin's smile rivaling the lights around them. When the music began, they slowly started to move, just swaying in place really, still a bit shy with all of the attention on them, especially the dozen camera flashes that went off; and then Ewan began to sing and they forgot about the crowd, focusing on the words of the song and on one another.

_"Never knew I could feel like this_  
Like I've never seen the sky before  
I want to vanish inside your kiss  
Every day I love you more and more" 

Their feet found their places as they moved about the space, eyes only for each other.

_"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings_  
Telling me to give you everything  
Seasons may change, winter to spring  
But I love you until the end of time 

_Come what may_  
Come what may  
I will love you until my dying day" __

__And they kissed and DJ Twist invited everyone to join them on the dance floor. Pairing off, their guests began to dance around them. As there was a disproportionate number of women to men, some of the women danced together, Rev. Ophelia holding court by herself until Mel invited her to dance with her and Lindsay._ _

_____"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_  
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace  
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste  
It all revolves around you  
And there's no mountain too high  
No river too wide  
Sing out this song I'll be there by your side  
Storm clouds may gather  
And stars may collide  
But I love you until the end of time" 

__Although they were surrounded by other couples, could feel them brushing by them as they moved across the floor, Brian and Justin could have been alone in the loft for all they cared. This was their moment and as ridiculously romantic as the song was, they understood the sentiment. How hard had they fought to get to this place in their lives? And even though sometimes it had seemed that they wouldn’t make it, they had. Nothing and no one had been able to stop them, not even themselves. They'd made it._ _

____"Oh, come what may, come what may  
I will love you, I will love you  
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place"_ _

__Suddenly, heart full to overflowing, Brian and Justin twirled around joyously as the music swelled to a crescendo._ _

____"Come what may  
Come what may  
I will love you until my dying day"_ _

__Holding Justin in his arms, Brian kissed his partner long after the song had ended._ _

__For the next twenty minutes, DJ Twist kept the dancing going with an assortment of contemporary love songs from Stevie Wonder to Bad English to Sarah MacLachlan. When "Never Tear Us Apart" began, Justin asked Brian, "Can you believe how Michael Hutchence died?"_ _

__Brian said nothing. He'd never told Justin about his own adventures in scarfing the week of the prom. Some things were better left unsaid._ _

__"God, he was beautiful," said Justin. "I love that video. Even if it is old."_ _

__Ignoring the ageist remark, Brian just tightened his grip on Justin and endeavored to forget how old he'd been when that song had first been released._ _

__Even Gus got in on the action, dancing with his daddies while a very apropos song played._ _

_____"I was born to make you happy._  
I think you're just my style.  
Every where I go,  
Telling everyone I know,  
Baby, I love to see you smile." 

__Debbie and Nana rose laughed and clapped, encouraging him and he just danced and danced._ _

__"Watch out!" Nana Rose exclaimed. "That baby has got to be Justin's. Look at those hips."_ _

__Around nine Melanie gave DJ Twist the high sign and he faded out the song that was just ending. "Okay, everyone," she said, "the moment we've all been waiting for: cake."_ _

__Peter and John who had been growing bored with the dancing, cheered. That's what weddings were really about, the cake._ _

__At Brian's insistence, Lindsay went and found Gaia in the kitchen and had her come out. Luckily, she was dressed to party, in a beautiful flowing purple and gold caftan with a matching headdress._ _

__"That's what I'm talking about," exclaimed Nana Rose. "Take care of business."_ _

__Justin introduced her to their guests. "This is Gaia. She's the best baker in Pittsburgh and she made our cake."_ _

__"And now," Mel said, "it's time to cut it. So get to it."_ _

__Gaia helped Lindsay separate the layers of the cake, putting the top aside and placing the two real layers on either side of the fake one._ _

__Justin took hold of the cake cutter and Brian enclosed his hand in his own and together they cut into the largest of the real layers. Then, as married couples had done for ages, they fed pieces of the slice to one another, smearing their faces in the process and then kissed away the frosting as their guests cheered and whistled. The kiss went on for a while. When Brian let Justin up for air, the younger man's chest was working like a pair of bellows._ _

__Rennie, remembering the kiss Brian had given her, whispered, "Wow." She didn't think she could take Brian's kisses all the time. The Boy Wonder definitely had her respect and admiration._ _

__One of the waiters poured a bottle of sparkling grape juice into the top glass of the pyramid of glasses. Everyone oohed and ahhed appropriately as the juice flowed down the apex of the pyramid into the wide-mouthed glasses below. Gus pointed to the glasses and said, "Look." He and Justin both were suitably impressed._ _

__The pyramid glasses filled, a second waiter joined the first and they uncorked the bottles of champagne and began filling the other glasses on the table. The kids were given the sparkling grape juice, even Gus, although Lindsay had to keep him from drinking his before the toasts began. When everyone had a glass in their hands and Brian and Justin were in possession of the special cobalt blue flutes they'd bought for their champagne, the toasts began._ _

__As one of the grooms' attendants, Michael went first._ _

__"Brian and I have been best friends since we were fourteen years old and we've been through a lot together. Some things we can't talk about for fear of incriminating ourselves." Laughter. "Well, I could probably tell you about them but the names would have to be changed to protect the not-so-innocent." Again laughter. "I was there the night Brian met Justin and even though I never thought they'd end up together, much less married, I'm glad they are. They make each other very happy and I hope that they are always as happy as they are today." He raised his glass. "To the grooms."_ _

__"To the grooms," and everyone raised their glasses and drank the first toast._ _

__Next was Daphne's turn. Giggling a little at first, she turned serious. "Well, Justin and I have been best friends since we were four years old and that's a really really long time." The older guests laughed. Some of them had clothes that were older than Justin and Daphne. "I remember the first time I saw Brian. He was talking with Michael in Woody's and I couldn't believe this was the guy Justin was crazy about. I thought he was crazy." They all laughed. "But it turns out he knew exactly what he was doing. Kind of." A titter. "I don't think I've ever seen two people more in love." She raised her glass to the grooms. "May you always love each other."_ _

__"May you always love each other," echoed the guests._ _

__Justin went next, toasting his groom. " 'The birthday of my life/ Is come, my love is come to me'," he quoted. "To my love, 'Grow old with me! / The best is yet to be'," and although he'd used pieces of Emily Dickinson and Robert Browning, they seemed to fit together seamlessly._ _

__" 'I have known many,/ Liked not a few,/ Loved only one/ I toast to you'," said Brian, reciting an Irish toast which garnered many chuckles, and he raised his glass to his love. The toast he'd prepared long in advance even though he hadn't been able to write his vows ahead of time. " 'Love comforts like sunshine after rain'," he said, paraphrasing Shakespeare. "To my Sunshine."_ _

__Then their mothers each gave a brief toast and welcomed each of them into the other's family._ _

__They'd agreed before hand to keep the toasts short and sweet and not have the rest of their friends and family make toasts so that they could cut the cake and get on with the festivities before the night fled from them. Even so, Gus was beginning to look a little tired and Brian especially wanted him to be up for one part of the festivities. So, while Lindz and Mel and Gaia cut the cake and passed it out, Brian signaled Cynthia and she disappeared for a moment. When everyone who wanted cake had gotten it and while they were busy eating and complimenting Gaia, Brian cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Excuse me."_ _

__Mel whistled. "Hey! Listen up."_ _

__"Thanks." Waited until he saw Cynthia. "I wanted to give Justin his wedding present before Gus fell asleep cause I think he's going to appreciate it and he looks like he's about to fall over at any minute," and he did, he'd plopped down at his Nana's feet and was leaning back against her as she sat and ate cake, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier by the moment. It had been a full day. "So," Cynthia came up and handed him the box, "this is for you." And he kissed Justin on the cheek and passed him the box._ _

__"Why does the box have holes in it?" Em asked Ted._ _

__"Guess we'll find out."_ _

__Taking the box, Justin set it upon a chair and removed the top and his mouth fell open. "Brian…"_ _

__"Take it out."_ _

__Justin reached in and lifted out a beautiful light brown, almost golden-colored kitten with beautiful light blue eyes and big ears that caught every sound. Alert and bright-eyed, he uttered a soft meow and continued to survey his surroundings._ _

__"I know you wanted a dog but I thought maybe a cat would be better with our schedules. And the breeder said Burmese are good with kids."_ _

__"Your grandmother had a Burmese," Joanie said._ _

__"That cat always liked you best," said Claire. "And you hated cats."_ _

__Gus snapped out of his daze the moment Justin had taken the cat out of the box. Getting up, he walked over and said, "Kit cat."_ _

__"That's right, it's a kitty cat."_ _

__"What kit cat name?"_ _

__Justin turned to Brian but he shrugged. "Your cat."_ _

__"Our cat." He was not going to be the only one cleaning out kitty litter and feeding the cat. He thought for a moment. "Leonardo, and we can call him Leo for short so Gus can say it."_ _

__"Leonardo di Caprio?" asked Emmett._ _

__"Da Vinci," he replied. "Leonardo dei Gatti."_ _

__"Leonardo of the cats," translated Vic. "I like it."_ _

__Craning his neck to kiss Brian, Justin said, "Thank you."_ _

__"You like?"_ _

__"I love." He watched as Gus tried to pet Leo. "Pet him softly. See?" and he demonstrated. Gus studied his movements, then copied them. "Isn't he pretty?"_ _

__"Pretty. What his name?"_ _

__"Leo."_ _

__"Pretty Leo. Pretty kit cat."_ _

__"Are you going to show him?" asked Keisha who loved cat and dog shows and never missed one on TV if she could, to Cecil's chagrin as they spent little enough time together without wasting it watching poodles prance around._ _

__"Who has time?" asked Brian. "Besides," he explained, "the CFA doesn't recognize the chocolate ones. It's not one of the approved colors, apparently."_ _

__"I can't believe," Lindsay whispered to Mel, "that Brian even knows what the CFA is."_ _

__"One of his tricks probably told him."_ _

__"Mel!"_ _

__"How catty," Em was saying. "Well, he'll fit right in with us. The rainbow takes in all colors."_ _

__Brian gave Mel the high sign, she gave Twist the go ahead, and he put on another song. Their guests spread out again, some eating cake, others dancing, a few starting to explore the house, some even putting on their coats to walk around outside since there were plenty of lights on beneath the pergola and loggia and in the courtyard for them to see by._ _

__"Did you lock the chest?" Justin asked him._ _

__"Uh-huh. But you might want to check, just to be sure."_ _

__"I'm going to take Leo upstairs, put him in our room. I think the music's probably too loud for him."_ _

__"There's a cat house in there already." No few people laughed at the idea of a cat house in Brian's bedroom. "Cynthia brought it," he told him, clearing up the mystery of how Leo had come into their lives._ _

__Seeing how taken Gus was with Leo and how sleepy he was, Lindsay suggested he go upstairs too and lie down for a while. With any luck, he'd sleep until it was time to go home. So he went with Justin and Leo, babbling to the cat in his daddy's arms. Justin put the kitty cat in his beautiful wooden house, where a warm pillow bed was already in place, and put Gus to bed, in their bed, not his. Despite wanting to look at the kitty cat, Gus was out almost the moment his head hit the pillow. Lying his jacket and vest on the trunk at the foot of the bed, and placing his shoes next to them, Justin checked to make sure the chest was locked, then gently pulled the door to. Hopefully none of their guests would wake the toddler in their explorations of the house._ _

__Brian was being hugged yet again by his mom and Jennifer when Justin returned._ _

__"There he is," Jennifer said and she reached for him as well. "Congratulations, honey."_ _

__"Thanks, Mom. Do you mind if I steal Brian for a minute?"_ _

__"He's all yours."_ _

__"I know," he replied and they took to the dance floor yet again, talking softly between kisses and laughing._ _

_____" however far away I will always love you however  
long I stay I will always love you whatever  
words I say I will always love you I will always  
love you"_

__Gradually, everyone returned to the reception hall for more cake and champagne and the hot cider that the waiters had put out again. Couples wandered back onto the dance floor and the party still seemed to be in full swing. Brian and Justin passed Ryder and Liz on the dance floor, the older couple laughing at some private joke and Brian asked them if they were having a good time._ _

__"I'm glad we came," Ryder said._ _

__"What a fabulous wedding and a fabulous house," exclaimed Liz. "We saw the name of the firm that did the decorating in the program. JK Designs?"_ _

__"My mom," he replied._ _

__"We'll have to talk. Marty and I are thinking about redecorating and I would love to have your mom come over and take a look at the place."_ _

__"Well, 'Have swatches, Will travel', that's her motto." Both Ryder and Liz laughed._ _

__"No," Justin explained, "that is her motto. It's on her business cards."_ _

__The music took the couples out of range of each other and Brian and Justin ended up next to Cynthia and her date._ _

__"Thanks, Cynthia," Brian told her._ _

__"You're welcome, Boss."_ _

__"So you were the one he was talking to this afternoon."_ _

__"He wanted to make sure everything was going as planned."_ _

__"I didn't suspect a thing. Where'd you leave Leo during the ceremony?"_ _

__"Upstairs. I left him in the basement and then one of the waiters carried him upstairs when you guys began the procession."_ _

_____"So if you're mad, get mad_  
Don't hold it all inside  
Come on and talk to me now  
Hey, what you got to hide?  
I get angry too  
Well I'm a lot like you" 

__Michael, who was dancing with Rev. Ophelia, moved up next to the happy couple and said, "This could have been your theme song."_ _

__"Yeah," Justin replied, "it does fit. But I like the song we picked out."_ _

__"It was beautiful," Rev. Ophelia told them._ _

__"The service was fantastic," said Justin._ _

__"You did good, Rev." This, of course, from Brian._ _

__"Glad to see I meet the high Kinney and Taylor-Kinney standards."_ _

_____"I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you  
Won't let nobody hurt you  
I'll stand by you"_

__Kenneth had gone out into the courtyard, eschewing his coat since he only intended to be out there for a moment. Examining the water fountain in the shape of a face with an open mouth, like the one in Rome into which Gregory Peck had put his hand in Roman Holiday, Kenneth heard the door open and close behind him. Turned and found a young man standing behind him. Well, not so young, late thirties, glasses, rather ordinary-looking but not bad-looking. It was just that compared to Brian, everyone was plain. _God, Brian…__ _

__Drew glanced up at the sky. "Beautiful night."_ _

__"Yeah." He did not want to chitchat. Starting back towards the house, he was stopped by the Drew's words._ _

__"Brian was very glad to see you. He cares a great deal for you."_ _

__"And you are…?"_ _

__Holding out his hand, the psychotherapist introduced himself. "Dr. Drew Becker, psychiatrist."_ _

__"Brian's therapist."_ _

__"And his friend. I hope." He paused. "I hope you're his friend as well."_ _

__"I'd like to think that I am," replied Kenneth._ _

__"Then you'll give them a chance to be happy."_ _

__Kenneth pretended to study the wisteria vines, bare now but just waiting for spring to bloom. "I've always wanted Brian to be happy."_ _

__"With you." They traded looks. "But he's with Justin. They're married now and no matter how you feel about that, I'd ask you to respect it."_ _

__Unused to people speaking so bluntly to him, Kenneth was momentarily nonplussed. Then he regained his composure and replied, "It's his life. Not yours."_ _

__"Maybe. But I'm the one he comes to when he can't turn to anyone else, not even Justin. I'm the one who gets to watch him fall apart. And I do the best I can to help him rebuild. But there's a limit to what I can do. There's a limit to how much he can take." He stared directly into Kenneth's eyes. "You can either be his friend and be happy for him and leave him the fuck alone or you can be responsible for destroying him. You take your pick. You say you love him, prove it." Having spoke his piece, Drew went back inside to find his date and try to dance away the anger that had suddenly gripped him._ _

__Left alone, Kenneth leaned against one of the poles of the arbor and lit a cigarette, its smoke curling around his head, weaving spells in the air._ _

__As Brian and Justin made their way across the dance floor, they spoke with many of their guests, touching and infecting as many people as they could with their happiness, their joy. Brian danced with Keisha and teased her about "What's his name" mercilessly before admitting that he thought Cecil was pretty hot. Justin found Dr. Drew's date and talked with him for a few moments before Dr. Drew returned and claimed him. The guy actually seemed animated at last. Maybe it was the champagne._ _

__Finally, the two hosts took a brief rest and heard DJ Twist say, "We're coming down to the last songs of the evening, folks." Most people paused to listen. "And these songs really capture the essence of Brian and Justin's love as they were requested by the grooms themselves." Everyone laughed a little, just imagining what the songs were._ _

__The first one came on and people seemed puzzled as it sounded like the pilot of a plane speaking over the intercom. Then someone began to play the guitar and sing._ _

_____"I wanna make you smile  
whenever you're sad  
carry you around when your arthritis is bad  
all I wanna do, is grow old with you"_

__It was Adam Sandler singing the song from The Wedding Singer that he'd sung to Drew Barrymore on the airplane._ _

____"I'll get you medicine when your tummy aches  
Build you a fire if the furnace breaks  
So, it could be so nice growing old with you…. "_ _

__There sounds of people laughing on the track, making miscellaneous sounds during the rest of the song which pretty much matched the sounds Brian and Justin's guests were making at the reception._ _

_____"I'll miss you_  
Kiss you  
Give you my coat when you are cold  
Need you  
Feed you  
Even let you hold the remote control. 

_____So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink  
Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink  
Oh I could be the man that grows old with you  
I wanna grow old with you."_

__With Michael and the guys ribbing him, Brian gave Justin a kiss and shook his head. It was the perfect song. But, now came his turn._ _

__"This song was requested by Brian for Justin."_ _

_____"Tender as a peach_  
Someone I would love to teach  
Started as a joke  
just a lazy little poke  
Wake up one sweet day  
and I could not run away  
Ears will start to bleed  
No I cannot take this speed" 

__Those who recognized the song began to laugh even before the chorus began._ _

____"I'm in baby love  
I'm in baby love  
I'm in baby love again"_ _

__The laughter drowned out some of the lyrics and Brian and Justin got teased royally but they took it good-naturedly and laughed as well._ _

__"All right, enough sitting on your butts," said DJ Twist, "everybody get up and dance. I think you'll all recognize this next song."_ _

__Everyone got up, even the people without partners, waiting to see what it was. With the first chords of synthesizer music, Emmett began to grin. He loved this song. By one of his favorite divas as it were. And it was perfect. By the time the drumbeat came in, almost everyone recognized it and they grinned too. They'd all been guilty._ _

_____"Our friends think we're opposites_  
Falling in and out of love  
They all said we'd never last  
Still we managed to stay together  
There's no easy explanation for it  
But whenever there's a problem  
We always work it out somehow  
Work it out somehow 

_____They said it wouldn't last  
We had to prove them wrong  
Cause I've learned in the past  
That love will never do without you"_

__For once Brian had loosened up and he and Justin were putting on a show. But, unlike their first dance, when they'd been oblivious to their guests, this time they were very aware of the people around them, egging them on._ _

__"You go, baby," shouted Nana Rose and Justin grinned even wider and gyrated his hips while Brian did a good job of keeping up with him. "Shake them hips, Brian. Shake it."_ _

__"Ahh," said Keisha, "look at them go."_ _

_____"They said it_  
They said it wouldn't last  
Whoo  
They said it  
Hey  
They said it wouldn't last  
What do you want?  
They said it wouldn't last  
If you believe in love say  
Love will never do  
Love will never do without you" 

__"Come on, y'all," DJ Twist urged, and they all began to sing and clap their hands, even Joanie._ _

_____"Love will never do  
Love will never do without you  
Love will never do  
Love will never do without you…"_

__His arms around his Baby, Brian closed his eyes, losing himself in the music and in the knowledge that they had, indeed, made it and were where they belonged._ _

__That song segued into another that had just as much meaning. They slowed their movements and swayed._ _

_____"Sometimes the snow comes down in June_  
Sometimes the sun goes 'round the moon  
I see the passion in your eyes  
Sometimes it's all a big surprise  
'Cause there was a time when all I did was wish  
You'd tell me this was love  
It's not the way I hoped or how I planned  
But somehow it's enough 

_____And now we're standing face to face  
Isn't this world a crazy place  
Just when I thought our chance had passed  
You go and save the best for last"_

__Justin tightened his arms around Brian and laid his head upon his shoulder. Gazed at the room around them. It really did seem like a winter wonderland. The snow had been scattered by their guests and you could see footprints in the flakes._ _

___"Sometimes the very thing you're looking for  
Is the one thing you can't see_ _ _

_____Sometimes the snow comes down in June_  
Sometimes the sun goes 'round the moon  
Just when I thought our chance had passed  
You go and save the best for last  
Just when I thought our chance had passed  
You went and saved the best for last  
Yeah" 

__But they had seen before it was too late and this was the best, being together, in the midst of their friends, celebrating their triumph._ _

__"Ladies and gentlemen," DJ Twist announced, "our hosts, Brian and Justin, invite everyone to join them in this, the last dance of the evening."_ _

__When the music began to play, Daphne's eyes lit up, as did Justin's. He'd had no idea Brian had requested the song, had thought that it'd be the last song in the world the man would want to hear but, looking into his eyes, he saw the truth, that the song no longer had the power to hurt. This was their moment and nothing could diminish it._ _

_____"You can smile_  
Every smile for the man  
Who held your hand  
'Neath the pale moonlight  
But don't forget who's taking you home  
And in whose arms you're gonna be  
So darlin', save the last dance for me" 

__Although they didn't reproduce their prom dance step-by-step, they did manage to sneak in almost all the moves and when they got to the part where Brian had dipped Justin before, he did again, Justin's smile just as wide as before, and then Brian raised him up and lifted him in his arms and twirled him around as he had that night and afterwards they kissed, just as they had all those years ago, and it was better than it'd been before because there would be no Chris Hobbs waiting in the parking lot, no tears, no fearful rides in the back of ambulances, and no anguished moments waiting in fluorescent-lit hallways; there was only their friends and family wishing them well, their home to shelter them, and one another's arms to protect them from harm._ _

__"This was the best night of my life," Justin whispered as they parted._ _

__"Even if it was ridiculously romantic," replied Brian._ _

__

__Having dispensed hugs to nearly everyone, Brian and Justin waved to their guests as they departed. Behind them, the cater waiters were busy clearing away the last of the glasses and plates. DJ Twist had already gone. Brian hoped it wouldn't take the clean-up crew long to pack everything up and hit the road. He was anxious to spend some time alone with his groom._ _

__As was his groom. Kissing Nana Rose goodbye, he extracted a promise from her to come and visit when school ended. "We've got an extra room now so you can stay with us."_ _

__"I'd love to, baby. Brian." They kissed and she pulled her coat tighter and accompanied Trey and Rennie to the car. Xavier hung behind. He and Justin hadn't had a chance to talk alone all evening but he wanted to speak to him before he left. Justin grabbed a coat from the closet and walked with Xavier to the car. As they passed through the gates of the entry way, they paused and exchanged a few words._ _

__"Congratulations, J."_ _

__"Thanks. I'm glad you came. You and Trey." Smiled. "Who knows…?"_ _

__Xavier shook his head. "I'm not ready for that yet. But I'm happy for you." They embraced and Xavier waved goodbye. "Later, J."_ _

__"Later." He returned to the house and saw Brian lean forward and kiss Kenneth upon the cheek before the biochemist turned to exit the front door. "Thanks for coming," he said as Kenneth neared him._ _

__"I hear you've got one of the drawings finished."_ _

__"How long you in town for?"_ _

__Harris laughed. "Not long enough to wait out your honeymoon. I'll be up again in a month. I'll see it then. Maybe you'll have a couple more done."_ _

__"Maybe," he replied, not promising anything. Continuing on into the house, he slipped his arm around Brian's waist. "That everybody?"_ _

__Everyone but their close friends and family. But even they got on their gear in fast order and quickly exchanged kisses and hugs with the grooms in preparation for leaving. They could tell their hosts wanted to be alone._ _

__"See you next week," Michael told them and they laughed._ _

__They didn't want to see anyone for a few days, didn't plan on even leaving the house. Which might prove to be a problem for their littlest guest. Gus had awakened and was coming down the stairs with Lindsay. He wanted to stay, wanted to sleep in his bed but Mommy had told him that he had to go home with them tonight. Which made him very fussy since he hadn't been able to spend hardly any time with his daddies tonight. And then there was Leo. He'd already gotten attached to the cat._ _

__Lindsay said, "Leo was on the bed with Gus, curled up next to him. You should have seen it."_ _

__"Thanks a lot," Mel told Brian. "You and your perfect fucking gifts," she complained but she did so good-naturedly._ _

__"Hey," he told her, suddenly serious, "thanks for tonight. You and Lindsay did a great job."_ _

__"Good, cause that was your wedding present," she joked but it would have been fine with him and Justin. "By the way, when are you opening your presents?" she asked. They'd piled them in the family room by the bar as there was space there and that's the room they spent the most time in besides their bedroom and the kitchen._ _

__"Tomorrow. If we find the time."_ _

__Justin having talked to him and tried to explain why he couldn't stay the night, Brian took Gus and walked with him for a few minutes and promised him that he could come over on Monday after school and play with Leo and have dinner if he wanted._ _

__"Stay?"_ _

__"You can stay," he promised him. "Okay?"_ _

__" 'Kay. Luv you."_ _

__"I love you too." Giving him back to Mel, he hugged Lindsay tight. "Thanks for everything."_ _

__"Anytime."_ _

__"So are you seriously thinking about having another one?" he asked. As if Gus wasn't enough._ _

__"We'll talk later," she said and kissed him goodbye, then gathered Mel and Gus, and left, Gus waving over Mel's shoulder._ _

__They were alone. Except for the guys who were rattling around in the kitchen. They'd returned with the truck and packed up all the tables and chairs, the dishes and linens and were making a final sweep of the premises to make sure everything was accounted for. Satisfied, they said goodnight._ _

__Setting the alarm, Brian and Justin went around and made sure all of the downstairs lights were off before heading up to their suite._ _

__"Where are we putting Leo's kitty litter?" asked Justin. There was a small pan next to the house where he now slept again, Gus having gone. It was unused as of yet. Some of the food was gone from the bowl though and water had spilled over onto the mat that Cynthia or someone had put beneath the bowls._ _

__"Not in our room."_ _

__"How about in the laundry room? I think there's just enough space beneath the table."_ _

__"Oh, that'll be great. Laundry with that fresh, clean cat litter smell."_ _

__"You think of a better place—and not in the basement, he's too small—and I'll be happy to entertain the thought."_ _

__Brian bumped Justin. "God, you sound just like a spouse."_ _

__"Cause I am."_ _

__Glancing down at the sleeping kitten, Brian made a suggestion. "Maybe we should put him in Gus' room for the night. Don't want to disturb his beauty rest."_ _

__Raising an eyebrow, Justin asked, "You planning on getting a little rowdy?"_ _

__Brian kissed the back of his neck, whispered, "A lot."_ _

__By the time Brian returned from settling Leo in again, Justin had managed to come half out of his clothes. Taking hold of the younger man's trousers, Brian unbuttoned and unzipped them and slipped his hands inside, fingers tracing the laced-up back of the briefs Justin wore. "I've been thinking about these all night," he murmured before kissing his lover._ _

__"No pure and virtuous thoughts?"_ _

__"Not a fuckin' one." He parted from Justin and began to strip as well until they were both naked except for Justin's sexy underwear. Coming together again, Brian cupped Justin's cheeks as they kissed and squeezed them. "You feel so good."_ _

__"Sometimes I think you just want me for my ass," teased Justin so Brian cupped his cock and squeezed it too._ _

__"Not hardly."_ _

__Moving to the bed, they curled around one another, Justin wrapped about Brian's body, and remained that way for a while, enjoying each other's warmth. Then, softly, Justin began to kiss his partner's chest and neck. About halfway up Brian's throat, Justin paused. "We forgot to light the fire."_ _

__Brian reached over and picked up the remote control and hit a button and within moments flames began to lick the ceramic logs. Both he and Justin laughed and then they found something better to do._ _

__Having kissed one another until their bodies were covered with kisses and having touched each other until no inch of bare skin was left uncovered, they found themselves trembling on the edge of arousal, hungry for a more deeper connection yet wanting to wait, to take it slow, to savor the moment and the night._ _

__Parting from him, Justin brushed his fingers over Brian's cheek and gazed into his eyes. God, he loved Brian's eyes, deep, dark, hazel eyes that saw so much, revealed so much if you took the time to look. Doe eyes, he thought of them and, by coincidence, "Doe Eyes" from The Bridges of Madison County soundtrack was playing. "You looked so beautiful today," he told him and Brian smiled softly. "I almost don't believe it happened," and by way of answer, Brian took hold of his left hand, his ring hand, and kissed his fingers. "Thank you."_ _

__"For what?"_ _

__"For today."_ _

__Still holding Justin's hand, Brian said, "Thank you."_ _

__"For what?"_ _

__"For today and tomorrow and all the days after that."_ _

__Feeling his eyes water, Justin buried his face in Brian's neck. Kissed his throat. "I love you."_ _

__It had been on his mind all evening off and on so he said in a low voice, "When I talked about us during the ceremony, I didn't tell them how you saved my life because I couldn't. I was ashamed."_ _

__Justin got up on one elbow. "Why?"_ _

__"I was supposed to be the strong one. And I let you down." No matter how long he lived, he'd always remember that failure, it haunted him._ _

__"No, you didn't."_ _

__"Yeah, I did. And I'm sorry. It was too much to put on you."_ _

__"I'm still here," said Justin. "Still queer—" Brian laughed. "And still in love with you. Come what may. It's not just a song, you know."_ _

__"I know."_ _

__"Then no more talk about you having failed me. You never have. Never." Laying his hand upon Brian's face, he kissed him tenderly._ _

__Brian looked into Justin's eyes, eyes that he loved, looked for when he woke up in the morning and when he went to sleep at night, eyes that had watched over him during some of the worst days of his life, and said, "Thanks for not giving up on me."_ _

__"Never. No matter what."_ _

__"I love you."_ _

__"That's all I've ever wanted." Grinned impishly. "Except maybe to come out of these things."_ _

__Cupping Justin's groin, Brian felt the fullness there. Leaned forward and kissed him, whispered, "That can be arranged."_ _

__He'd thought that nothing could have improved their lovemaking. Hadn't believed for an instant that being married would feel any differently from not being married. Having a ceremony was fine, hanging with their friends was fine, but he'd been of the opinion that he wouldn't be changed. And yet something had changed the moment Rev. Ophelia had pronounced them lifelong partners and especially after she'd introduced Justin as Justin Matthew Taylor Kinney. It was as if Justin was truly part of him now. They'd always had a connection, a link that had bound them closely together but now he felt as if he and Justin were complete soul mates. He started to say something more, then realized that the time for words had passed; now their bodies would speak, skin to skin, muscles against muscles, flesh inside flesh._ _

__Turning his lover, his partner onto his belly, Brian kissed him from the nape of his neck to the small of his back, lips brushing over his soft skin. Cock pressing against the front of his underwear, Justin was almost to the point of begging Brian to remove the constraining briefs when he felt a tug at his waist._ _

__Brian had caught one end of the lace between his teeth and tugged on it. The knot unraveled. Like opening a present, Brian undid the lacing: slipping his finger under each crisscross, briefly dipping between Justin's cheeks, then pulling the lace from its loops until he'd pulled it entirely free and Justin's ass lay open before him, the white strip of flesh and rosy hole bordered by the black halves of the briefs. Laying them back over his hips, he unveiled Justin's behind in all its bounteous glory. Softly, he kissed the crease of his buttocks where they met the tops of his thighs, around the edge of his cheeks, up on top of the mound, and then all along the crevice…_ _

__Lids fluttering, Justin moaned as Brian entered him and Brian's hand closed over Justin's, lacing his fingers with the younger man's._ _

__

__With candles lining the window sill and the ledge of the built-in tub, softly illuminating the otherwise darkened room, Brian and Justin soaked and rested weary bodies. More importantly, they enjoyed just being close to one another, Justin lying against Brian's chest, Brian's arms wrapped around him._ _

__"I love you," he whispered in the darkness and Brian kissed his temple._ _

__"I love you too."_ _

__"Always?"_ _

__"Always."_ _

__Justin shut his eyes, content. If Brian said so, then it had to be true._ _

__Reaching for the bath gel, Brian squeezed a palm full, then began to wash Justin without changing positions, running his hands over his body as they lay together. Justin's tongue peeks between his lips as he enjoyed the feel of Brian's hands on his chest, teasing his nipples; washing under his arms; tickling him as he cleaned out his navel; fingers closing around his cock and sliding up and down, spreading suds along its length. He tensed as Brian tightened his grip, muscles contracting in the man's forearm as he stroked his dick. Fighting to remain still as Brian jacked his cock, Justin gripped the edges of the tub and held on but Brian wouldn't let up, wouldn't release him, would only increase his efforts, rubbing his thumb over the head until Justin thought the tip of his cock would swell and explode. Surrendering, he gave into the need to move. Water sloshed over the edge as he began to thrust upwards, forcing his shaft through Brian's fist._ _

__"Unh. Unh," he groaned as Brian cupped his balls and rubbed the tight sack while continuing to tug on his lover's meat. Shouting, he came, jizz splattering Brian's hand and arm. Creamy patches floated on the water, intermingling with soap suds._ _

__

__Having made love a number of times during the night, they finally settled down for good around four in the morning, Brian closing his arms about his partner, Justin burrowing against his side. As he fell asleep, Brian looked back on the day that had passed, on the things that they'd said to one another, the vows that they'd taken, the promises that they'd made and, even as he gazed back, he closed his eyes to dream of a future when all of their promises would come to fruition, to a day when they'd stand before their friends again and recount the years they'd spent together. He saw them, wiser and older and smiled because he knew the truth. They would never grow old, only better, only stronger in love, deeper in love._ _

___"Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you, Mr. Brian Andrew Kinney and Mr. Justin Matthew Taylor Kinney."_ _ _

__Always._ _

__

__**Music played in the story (not at the wedding)** _ _

___"Caligula" by Macy Gray, Darryl Swann, and Jeremy Ruzumna, Zomba Songs Inc./Happy Mel Boopy's Cocktail Lounge and Music (BMI), 1999.  
"Pretty Mary Sunlite" performed by Jerry Reed.  
"Roll It Up" by Ken Jordan and Kirkland, EMI Virgin Music, Inc./Harder Faster Music (ASCAP)/EMI Vrigin Music, Inc./Drug Money Music (BMI). _

__

__**Poetry (in order of reading)** _ _

___"The Way I Feel" by Nikki Giovanni_  
"Arriving" by Marge Piercy  
"West of Yesterday East of Summer" by Paul Monette  
"Song from Arcadia" by Sir Philip Sidney 


End file.
